s 



AN ACCOUNT 

OF 

PARIS, 

AT THE 

CLOSE OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY: 

RELATING TO THE 

BUILDINGS OF THAT CITY, ITS LIBRARIES, GARDENS, 
NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL CURIOSITIES, THE 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE PEOPLE, 
THEIR ARTS, MANUFACTURES, &c. 



BY MARTIN LISTER, M. D. 



NOW REVISED, 

WITH COPIOUS BIOGRAPHICAL, HISTORICAL, AND 
LITERARY ILLUSTRATIONS AND ANECDOTES, 

AND 

A SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, 

BY GEORGE HENNING, M. D. 



Obscurata diu populo bonus eruet, atque 

Proferet in luceni speciosa Vocabula rerum, tt> 
Qua? priscis memorata Catonibus atque Cethegis, 
Nunc situs informis premit et descrta vetustas, 
Luxuriantia compescet: uimis aspera sano 
Levabit cultu, virtute carentia toilet. 

Hor.L. 2. Ep. 2. v. 115. 



SHAFTESBURY : 
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. RUTTER ; 
ALSO PUBLISHED IN LONDON 
BY LONGMAN AND CO, PATERNOSTER-ROW ; YOUNG AND C<T. 
TAVISTOCK STREET, AND UNDERWOOD^ FLEET STREET. 



THE AUTHOR^ DEDICATION* 



TO HIS EXCELLENCY 



'9 

Lord Sommers, Baron of Evesham, Lord High 
Chancellor, and one of the Lords Justices of 
England. 

My Lord, 

Wisdom is the foundation of justice 
and equity, and it seems not to he perfect un- 
less it also comprehends philosophy and natural 
learning, and whatever is of great taste in the 
arts. It is certain, my Lord, for the honour of 
your high statioii, that the greatest philosophers 
of the age, were of your predecessors ; nor i$ 
your Lordship in any respect behind them, so 
that it zvould seem as though nothing inspired 
people with more equity than a true value for 
useful learning and arts. It is this reflection 
which has given me the courage to offer to your 
Lordship this short account of the magnificent 



4 



iv DEDICATION. 

and noble city of Paris, and the court of that 
great king, who has given Europe such long 
and vehement disquiet, and has cost England 
in particular so much blood and treasure. 

It is possible, my Lord, that you may find 
a leisure hour to read over these papers for 
your diversion; and I promise you that you 
will meet with nothing in them that is offensive, 
but pure matters oj fact, and the concise re- 
marks of an unprejudiced observer. 

But that I may no longer importune you, 
who are so perpetually busied in such laborious 
yet useful employments, 

I beg leave to subscribe myself 
My Lord, your Lordship's 
most humble and most obedient servant, 

MARTIN LISTER. 



PREFACE 

BY THE 

Ctittor. 



THE work now re-presented to the public, was 
originally written and published in the year 
1698, by Dr. Lister, a physician of great emi- 
nence in London, who attended the Earl of 
Portland in his Embassy to France, to negociate 
the Treaty of Peace of Ilysvvick. 

On this occasion Dr. Lister resided at Paris 
for six months, during which time he employed 
his leisure in conversing with the literati of 
that Capital, in inspecting its various museums 
of natural and artificial curiosities and anti- 
quities, the libraries and gardens, the palaces 
and mansions. Whatever he saw he recorded, 
and, at his return, made the whole, the subject- 
matter of a volume, to which he gave the title 
of a Journey to Paris in the year 1G98. 



vi 



PREFACE. 



He has enlivened his narrative with many 
anecdotes of distinguished individuals, and with 
a variety of reflections and remarks that be- 
speak the profound scholar, the enlightened 
man of the world, and the accomplished gen- 
tleman. 

This wbrkj which was very well received, is 
thought worthy of republication, not only as 
being out of print and obsolete, but as afford- 
ing descriptions of ancient magnificence and 
grandeur — now no more. 

The office of the Editor has neither been 
confined to the correction of the text, nor to 
the alteration of the stile; he has found it ne- 
cessary to correct many redundancies, and to 
supply some omissions ; he has, moreover, ad- 
ded copious biographical and historical notes 
and illustrations, and anecdotes of many of the 
individuals to which the original work refers. 
For these he is solely responsible. 



A 

SKETCH 

OF THE 

LIFE OF DR. LTSTER. 



MARTIN LISTER was born about the year 1638. 
His family, which came originally from Yorkshire, 
was at the time of his birth settled in the county of 
Buckingham, and had produced several individuals 
who became eminent in the medical profession. 
Among these was Sir Matthew Lister, who had the 
distinguished honour to be physician to King Charles 
the first, and President of the College of Physicians. 

Martin enjoyed the great advantage to be educated 
under the direction of his uncle Sir Matthew, and 
was sent to St. John's College, Cambridge, where he 
took his Bachelor's degree in arts in the year 1658; 
and at the Restoration in 1660, he was, in conse- 
quence of his determined and steady loyalty, ap- 
pointed fellow of his college by Royal Mandate. Two 
years afterwards he proceeded Master of Arts, and, 
applying himself to physic, travelled to France, for 
the purpose of enlarging his knowledge, and was very 
assiduous in the pursuit of it. In 1670 he returned 
to England, and settled at York, where he acquired 
great and deserved reputation as an accomplished 
and scientific physician. 

• The time which he was able to spare from the 



Till 



SKETCH OP THE 



exercise of his profession, he devoted with equal zeal 
and fondness to the investigation of the natural 
history and antiquities of several parts of England, 
but particularly the north, and frequently made jour- 
neys for that sole purpose. The communications 
which he was thus enabled to make to the Royal 
Society, on the different subjects of meteorology, 
hydrology, mineralogy, botany, zoology, anatomy, 
pharmacy and antiquities, in addition to the treatises 
which he had previously published on natural history, 
were so numerous, so various, and so important, as to 
procure his admission as a member of that illustrious 
body. He also contributed to the Ashmolean Mu- 
seum, at Oxford, many ancient coins, altars, and other 
antiquities, together with a great number of natural 
curiosities. To the same museum he sent likewise the 
drawings which had been made by his two daughters, 
from which the plates in his Synopsis Conchyliorum 
were engraved. 

His reputation stood now so high in the kingdom, 
although he resided at so great a distance from the 
metropolis, that he was importuned to remove thither ; 
and yielding to the solicitations of Lis friends and the 
public, he settled in London in the year 1683. In the 
spring of the same year he was created Doctor of 
Physic at Oxford by diploma, at the particular re- 
commendation of the Lord Chancellor, and was soon 
after elected a fellow of the College of Phvsicians. 

Having now for the long period of twenty-six years, 
been unremittingly engaged in the duties of his pro- 
fession, and other fatiguing pursuits, he thought it 
prudent to decline general practice ; and, his health 
being much impaired, he was glad for the recovery of 



LIFE OF DR. LISTER. 



fee 



it, to avail himself of the opportunity of going in the 
suite of the ambassador to France ; the air of that 
country, where he had been twice before, having 
been beneficial to him. There he passed six months ; 
and, at his return, drew up for the satisfaction of the 
public, an account of what he had seen and remarked 
in the French metropolis. 

In the year 1709, in consequence of the illness of 
Dr. Hannes, he was appointed physician in ordinary 
to Queen Anne ; an honour which he did not long 
enjoy. He died in February 1711-12, in his seventy- 
fourth year, worn out with age and infirmities. 

Having thus offered the best account of the life of 
Uster, which I have been enabled to compile from 
the few materials that chance has thrown in my way, 
it may not be unacceptable to the reader to receive 
some concise remarks on his writings, together with 
some observations on his character as a writer. 

It has been candidly and justly acknowledged, that 
although most of the publications of Lister are dis- 
tinguished by a propensity to hypothesis, and by too 
strong an attachment to the doctrines of ancient 
writers, yet that they are not destitute of many valu- 
able observations, the result of his own experience. 

Of the accuracy of this critique, none of his w orks 
afford clearer evidence than his " Exercitationes de 
fontibus medicatis Angliae" 

The same qualified praise applies to his Exercita- 
tiones sex Medicinales, first published 1694, repub- 
lished with additions under the title of Octo Exercita- 
tiones Medicinales 1697, when his health had declined 
so much, as to make it necessary for him to indulge 
in more sedentary habits, and to relinquish the fa- 



X* SKETCH OF* THE 

tiffues of business. The diseases' here treated of are 
dropsy, diabetes, hydrophobia, lues venerea, scurvy, 
gout, calculus, and small-pox. 

In the treatment of dropsy he places the greatest 
reliance on drastic purgatives, and a rigid abstinence 
from liquids. 

His theory of diabetes makes that disease to consist 
in a relaxation of the renal vessels; he denies the 
saccharine taste in the early stages of the complaint ; 
and gives one example of a cure effected by freely 
drinking wine with ginger boiled in it ; milk-water 
being allowed to appease the thirst. 

In hydrophobia he affirms that no one ever reco- 
vered in whom the dread of water was present. He 
narrates the history of one Corton, which is extremely 
curious, and well worthy of perusal. 

Of the lues he regards quicksilver as the great 
specific, but suggests that an antidote is necessary to 
obviate the effects of the remedy itself, and that 
guaiacum is that antidote. 

Of calculus he says, that it is of the nature of true 
stone ; the origin of it he attributes to the ingesta, 
and to debility of the secreting organs, which last he 
regards as the sine qua non of the disease. 

Of gout he deduces the origin from debility of the 
organs destined to secrete the humors in the joints ; 
and for the cure, relies on abstinence from solids as 
well as fluids ; parva cibatio sum mas cuiae sit, is, he 
says, a golden rule. 

In the scurvy, as might be expected, nothing wor- 
thy of notice occurs ; but in the small-pox, he censures 
severely the cooling practice which Sydenham had 
introduced, and Sydenham for introducing it, and 



LIFE OF DR. LISTER. 



xi 



expresses his decided preference for the remedies called 
alexipharmics. 

His Dissertatio de Humoribus, the last of his pro- 
ductions, and the work of his old age, teems with 
hypothetical and gratuitous notions of his own, and 
with refutations of those of other theorists, and is as 
censorious of Drake and Ruysch, as his exercitation 
of small-pox was of Sydenham. He also published in 
the philosophical transactions nearly forty papers, 
besides the following works : 

" Histories Animaiium tres tractatus : unus de 
Araneis : alter de Cochleis Terrestribus et Fluvia- 
tilibus ; tertius de Cochleis Marinis ;" 4to. 1678. 

" Exercitatio Anatomica de Cochleis maxime 
Terrestribus, et Limacibus," 8vo. 1694. 

K Exercitatio Anatomica altera de Buccinis Flu- 
viatilibUs et Marinis," 8vo. 1695. 

" fixercitatio Anatomica tertia Conchyliorum Bi* 
ralvium," 4to, 1696. 

He published also a new edition of Goedart on 
Insects, which he almost re-cast and greatly me- 
thodized. 

But the work which it is more particularly incum- 
bent on me to notice, since it gave rise to the present 
Undertaking, is the " Journey to Paris ;" in offering 
which to the public, I am solely actuated by the 
desire to impart to others, who may never have seen 
it, the pleasure which I myself experienced in the 
perusal of it. That it will obtain the approbation of 
all classes of readers I dare not be so sanguine as to 
expect, because I know how large a proportion of 
such as are general readers, dislike whatever has the 
appearance of being antiquated, not to say obsolete. 



xil 



SKETCH OF THE 



That this work contains a great deal of curious 
matter, can only be denied by those whose prejudices 
have hindered their perusal of it, or those to whom 
no opportunity has been afforded of seeing it. And 
it must be admitted that some things of a trifling 
nature found their way into it, as if the learned 
author had merely transcribed his journal. The style 
itself was also remarkably inaccurate and negligent. 
It is, however, an indisputable fact, that the work at 
its first appearance was extremely well received, and 
it may be mentioned in confirmation of it, that the 
author was sufficiently encouraged to be induced to 
print a second edition of it in the following year. 
This must have afforded him the greater satisfac- 
tion, as attempts had been made to turn into ridi- 
cule not only the work itself, but even the author on 
account of the work. He was more particularly assailed 
by Dr. William King, a civilian, who was remarkable 
for his facetiousness and dry grave banter, and whose 
motto was " ridentem dicere verum quid vetat ?" 
The peculiar course which he selected on the present 
occasion, was to make a Travestie of Dr. Lister's 
Journey to Paris, by contriving a similar, but ficti- 
tious Journey to London, to be made by one Sor- 
biere, a Frenchman, who thirty years before had 
published a narrative of a voyage which he had then 
made to England, and which was so remarkable for its 
inaccuracies, and want of knowledge of the manners 
and customs of the nation among whom he had resided 
three months, that the application of his name was in 
itself an indirect satire. 

It may be acceptable to the reader to see exhibited 
a few specimens of the peculiar vein of Dr. King's 



LIFE OF DR. LISTER. 



xiii 



irony, and I will therefore select two or three of the 
most ludicrous and satirical. 

One, alluding to Dr. Lister's avowal of his love of 
nature, &c. in the introduction, is as follows : u though 
I met with an English gentleman who proffered to 
shew me the princes of the blood, the prime ministers 
of state, &c. yet I refused the civility, and told him 
that I took more pleasure to see honest John Sharp of 
Hackney, in his white frock, crying turnips, ho I four 
bunches a penny ! than Sir Charles Cotterel making- 
room for an ambassador ; and I found myself better 
disposed and more apt to learn the physiognomy of a 
hundred weeds, than of five or six princes." 

Another is as follows : "The reason why there are 
more boats below bridge than above, is because there 
is a custom house, &c. and the reason why there lie 
so many hundred large vessels of all sorts, and of all 
nations is, because they cannot get through bridge, 
heigh ! and there are a great many light boats laden 
with brooms, gingerbread, tobacco, and a dram of the 
bottle, ho!" 

The last specimen of this satirical paraphrase that 
I shall produce is this : " I was walking in St. James's 
park. There were no pavilions nor decoration of 
treillage and flowers, but I saw there a vast number 
pf ducks. These were a most surprising sight. I 
could not forbear to say to Mr. Johnson who wa$ 
pleased to accompany me in this walk, that sure all 
the ponds in England had contributed to this profu- 
sion of ducks ; which he took so well, that he ran, 
immediately to an old gentleman that sat in a chair 
and was feeding them, who rose up very obligingly, 
embraced me a and saluted me with a kiss, and invited 



xiv 



SKETCH OF THE 



me to dinner, telling me he was infinitely obliged io 
me for flattering the king's ducks." 

Nor did he stop here; but made the doctor the 
butt of his ridicule, or rather sarcasm, on account of 
his edition of the work of Apicius Caelius, on the 
soups and sauces of the ancients. The vehicle of his 
satire was his poem, which he called the Art of 
Cookery, in imitation of Horace's Art of Poetry. 
This he addressed to Dr. Lister, and made him, in~a 
manner, the hero of the piece. It opens thus : 
u Ingenious Lister ! were a picture drawn, 
With Cynthia's face, but with a neck like brawn. 
With wings of turkey, and with feet of calf, 
Though drawn by Kneller it would make you laugh." 
And in a further part says : 

66 Oh could that poet live, could he rehearse, 
Thy journey, Lister, in immortal verse — 
Muse ! sing the man that did to Paris go, 
That he might taste their soups, and mushrooms know. 7 ' 
Ill all this the want of candour and liberality is 
quite as conspicuous as the ability admitted to be 
displayed. The public did not enter into the jest, 
and it is probable, that the author's fondness of 
the piece, which he shewed on several occasions by 
describing himself as the author of Sorbiere's Journey 
to London, led him to attach more importance to it 
than it was entitled to. 

In all his works Lister gave ample proof of the 
great accuracy of his observation, and in those more 
particularly anatomical, of the unwearied industry 
with which he persevered in detecting and developing 
the minute structure of the human body, and that of 
inferior animals. The great blemish of his literary 
character was his excessive fondness for controversy. 



fclFE OF DR. LISTER. 



and the severity with which he animadverted on seve- 
ral of the most eminent physicians, with whom he 
chanced to differ in opinion. The great Sydenham 
was, on more occasions than one, treated by him with 
the utmost want of candour, and almost with down- 
right rudeness. He comprehends him with some 
others, under the unwarrantable title of nostri ho- 
mines, our men; and alludes to him as "one of the late 
vain expositors of nature, and as playing the philoso- 
pher by fanciful and precarious interpretations of the 
nature of diseases and medicines, to gain a sort of 
credit with the ignorant." "Such," he says, "are all 
those that have not studied physic thoroughly and in 
earnest." It is to the credit of Sydenham, that al- 
though he so frequently and so feelingly complains of 
the illiberal and harsh treatment which he received at 
the hands of his cotemporaries, he never once mentions 
them by name. Not so with the illustrious and astonish- 
ing anatomist Ruysch 1 He, having been stigmatized 
by Lister, in his Dissertation on the Humors, gave 
way to his natural irritability, and repelled the attack 
with great warmth and no small appearance of justice : a 
No one, therefore, he says, can deny that it was ex- 
tremely indecorous in Martin Lister, an Englishman, 
and an advocate for the existence of glands in the 
viscera, who has read his treatise of the humors, in 
which he repeatedly charges me with having advanced 
falsehoods ; a charge which might with more justice 
be hurled back upon himself, who has presumed to 
pass his judgement on things which he never beheld. 

a Frederici Ruyschii Anat. at Botan. Prof. &c. Thesau. 
Anatomicus Nonus. Prefatio. 



Xvi LIFE OF DR. LISTER. 

Calumniators of this description, presuming to decide 
on subjects of which they are absolutely ignorant, are 
hardly to be endured. 

" He has, moreover, in several parts of the said tract, 
reflected on me, alleging that I am of opinion, and 
have even published, what indeed I have never ut- 
tered, nor committed to paper ; viz. that 1 deny the 
existence of glands in the body altogether ; and as for 
those in the cerebrum, that I affirm them to be merely 
fat, &c. And why, I should be glad to know, has he 
not mentioned the place, of at least the work, in which 
I have thus expressed myself? There is not an in- 
dividual who has read my publications, who does not 
know the contrary ! 

" I will not, however, insult this stickler for the exist- 
ence of glands, because he chances to think differently 
from me, and endeavours to confute my doctrines, 
contending, as he does, in opposition to modern dis- 
coveries, and stubbornly adhering to obsolete hypo- 
theses respecting the glands, while he has not had an 
opportunity of even seeing the new appearances, and 
faithful preparations which are in my museum !" 

It is worthy of observation that Lister, although he 
so frequently indulges his disposition to be sarcastic, 
takes great pains to persuade himself and the world 
that he utterly abhors every appearance of illiberality ; 
" a qua tamen inurbanitate maxime abhorreo." 

Something might be urged in extenuation of this^ 
infirmity, but it is not essential. It is the only one 
which has descended to posterity. 



NAMES OF SUBSCRIBERS. 



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Baillie, Matthew, M. D. London, 2 copies. 

Barker, Rev. A. Master of the Grammar School. Taunton. 

Bartlett, Mr. Surgeon, Shapwick, Somerset. 

Bath and Wells, Right Rev. the Bishop of 

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Beadon, Rev. Frederick, Canon of Wells. 

Board, Mr. Surgeon, Huntspill, Somerset. 

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Bowels, Captain, Huish House, near Langport. 

Broderip, Edmund, Esq. Wells. 

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Brookes, Henry, Esq. Wells. 

Brown, John, Esq, Shepton. 

Bullock, Rev. C. Vicar of St. Pauls, Bristol. 

Booth, Mr. G. Bristol. 

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Coles, Joseph, Esq. Wookey, near Wells. 

Colston, Rev. Dr. Yarlington, Somerset. 

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Foster, Colonel, Wells. 

Foster, Rev. F. D. Dodington, Somerset. 

Foster, Mr. Surgeon, Bridgewater. 

Fedden, Mr. C. Bristol. 

Gamlen, Rev. S. Heighington, Durham. 

Garland, George, Esq. Stone, near Wimborne, Dorset. 

George, Rev. William, North Petherton, Somerset. 

George, Miss Elizabeth, North Petherton, Somerset. 

Gilbert, Davies, Esq. M. P. East Bourne, Sussex. 

Golding, John, Esq. Wookey House, near Wells. 

Gould, Rev. H. Canon of Wells. 

Gould, Miss, Wells. 

Grenyille, General, Hill Street, Berkley Sqnare. 
Gray, Rev. James, Swindon. 
George, Mr. S. Bristol. 
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Haydon, — , Esq. Royal Academician, London. 

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Padfield, — , Esq. Shepton. 

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AN ACCOUNT 

OF 

PARIS 

AT 

THE CLOSE OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 



INTRODUCTION. 



THIS tract was chiefly written to satisfy my own 
curiosity, and to delight myself with the remembrance 
of what I had once seen. I busied myself in a place 
where I had little else to do than to walk up and 
down 5 well knowing that the character of a stranger 
gave me free admittance to men and things. The 
French value themselves upon their courtesy, and in 
building, as well as in dress, study appearances more 
than utility or comfort. This propensity renders the 
curiosity of strangers perfectly easy and agreeable to 
them. 

But why, you ask me, do you trouble us with an 
account of Paris, a place so well known already to 
every person here ? For this very good reason, I 
reply, that I may be spared the trouble of perpetually 
repeating the story of what I had seen. You rejoin, 
we already know whatever you can say, or if not, we 
can read it in " The Present State of France," or in 
the " Description of Paris," books which may be 
purchased in every shop in London. This is perfectly 

b % 



INTRODUCTION. 



true, you may so ; and if you are desirous to have a 
just comprehension of the grandeur of the Court of 
France, and the immense extent of the city of Paris, 
you will do well not to neglect these books. I myself 
put on these spectacles, but I found that they did not 
suit my eyes ; I chose to see without their assistance, 
and thought that neither microscopes nor magnifying 
glasses were necessary in viewing mighty cities, or 
magnificent palaces. 

That you may not, however, be alarmed, reader, I 
pledge myself neither to trouble you with politics, 
nor with the ceremonies of church or state ; for I was 
engaged with none of these willingly, but only as they 
forced themselves into the conversation, or as I was 
constrained to participate in them. You will readily 
find by the general character of my remarks, that I 
am less disposed to dominion than to nature, and that 
I took far greater pleasure in seeing M. Breman in 
his white waistcoat, employed in digging in the royal 
physic garden, and sowing his hot-beds, than M. 
Saintot clearing the way for an ambassador ; and that 
I found myself more inclined, and more able to learn 
the names and physiognomy of a hundred plants, than 
of five or six princes. And I must confess that I 
would much rather walk a hundred paces under the 
meanest hedge in Languedoc, than in the most 
finished alley at Versailles, or St. Cloud; so much do 
I give the preference to pure nature and a warm sun, 
above the most exquisite performances of art in a 
cold and barren climate. 

Another reason which I have to assign for not 
troubling you with the affairs of state is that I was 



INTRODUCTION. 



21 



no more concerned in the conduct of the embassy a 5 
than in directing the course of the vessel which con- 
veyed me to France. It is quite enough for me to 
enjoy, with the rest of the good people of England, 
the happy effects of it, and to be allowed to pass away 
the remainder of this life in peace and quietness. It 
is a fortunate turn for their subjects, when kings be- 
come friends again. This was the result of the 
embassy, and I hope the peace b will last as long as 
we live. 

My Lord ambassador 8 was infinitely caressed by 
the French king, his ministers, and all the princes. 



a The embassy here spoken of was sent to negociate the 
treaty of the peace, which from the house where the nego- 
tiations were carried on and which belonged to king 
William, was called the Treaty or Peace of Ryswick. 

b Its duration barely exceeded three years ; for at the 
death of king James, which happened on the 6th of Septem- 
ber, 1701, Lewis not only acknowledged his son to be the 
king of England, but prevailed on the king of Spain, the 
Pope, and the Duke of Savoy to do the same. This being 
justly regarded by the British Court as a direct violation of 
the Treaty of Ryswick, the Earl of Manchester was or- 
dered to leave Paris without asking for an audience, and 
war was proclaimed. 

* The Earl of Pembroke — of whom Bishop Burnet says, 
that he was a man of eminent virtue, and of great and pro- 
found learning, particularly in the mathematics. He adds, 
that there was something in his person and manners that 
created an universal respect for him, and that there was no 
individual whom all parties so much loved and honoured as 
they did him. 

This character for the mild virtues, which endear the 
possessor of them to all descriptions of persons^ belonged 



INTRODUCTION. 



Undoubtedly the French are the most polite people 
in the world, and can praise and court with a better 
air than the rest of mankind. 

The kingdom in general was, by the necessities to 
which it was reduced, well disposed for peace ; and 
although at our first arrival some disbanded offi- 



in an eminent degree to the predecessors of this amiable 
nobleman. William, in particular, is commemorated by 
Clarendon, as having been the most universally beloved and 
esteemed of any man of his time ; that historian goes on to 
say, that he had a great number of fiiends of the best men, 
and that no one had the boldness to declare himself hi* 
enemy ; that he was exceedingly beloved in the court, 
where he was always ready to promote the pretensions of 
worthy men; and equally celebrated in the country, for 
having been uncorrupted by the court ; that he was a great 
lover of his country, its religion and laws, and that his 
friendships were confined to men of similar principles ; that 
he died exceedingly lamented by men of all qualities. He 
concludes the sketch with the following extraordinary nar- 
rative, which, he says, he received from a person of known 
integrity: this person, being in his way to London, met at 
Maidenhead Sir Ch. Morgan, a general in the army ; Field, 
Bishop of St. David's, , and Dr.Chafin, a favourite of the 
Earl, and his domestic chaplain. At supper one of them 
drank the health of the Earl ; upon which another said, 
that he believed his lordship was at that time very merry, 
for he had now outlived the day, which his tutor Sandford 
had prognosticated upon his nativity he would not outlive ; 
but he had done it now, for that was his birth-day, which 
had compleated his age to fifty years.— The next morning, 
when they arrived at Colebrook, they met with the news of 
his death ; which was caused the evening before by apo- 
plexy, after eating a hearty supper. History of the 

Rebellion, vol, i. p. 57-8. 



i 



INTIIODUCTION. 



cers* were found to grumble, yet even these were 
satisfied before we returned home. 



* The military men in France complained of the treaty 
as base and dishonourable. In England, the adherents of 
James were confounded at it, because Lewis persisted in 
assuring him to the last moment, that he would never aban- 
don his interests. Of this, king James's queen was so con- 
fident, that she informed the party here, that England 
would be left out of the treaty, and would have to maintain 
the war alone. And when she was told by the French 
king, that the treaty was ratified, she made this bold re- 
partee — cc that she wished it might be such, as should raise 
his glory as much as it might settle his repose." — It is the 
fate of public measures to receive condemnation or applause 
according to the interest or caprice of individuals. In the 
following reign when the confederate war broke out, all 
commerce with France was prohibited, and a sad duty 
was imposed on French wines. This caused heavy com- 
plaints among the topers, who had great interest in parlia- 
ment, and pretended to be poisoned by port wine. Mr. 
Portman Seymour, a jovial companion, General Churchill, 
brother to the Duke of Marlborough, a lover of wine, Mr. 
Pereira, a jew and smell-feast, and other hard drinkers, 
declared the want of French wine was not to be endured, 
and that they could hardly bear up under so great a 
calamity. These were joined by Dr. Aldridge, who was 
nick-named the priest of Bacchus, and by Dr. Radcliffe, a 
physician of great reputation, who ascribed all diseases to 
the want of French wines, and who, though very rich, and 
much addicted to wine, yet being extremely covetous, 
bought the cheaper wines, but imputed the badness of his 
wine to the war, and the difficulty of getting better, though 
the wags attributed all his complaints to his avarice. All 
these were for peace rather than war, and all the bottl« 
eompaaioRS, many physicians^ and great numbers of the 



INTRODUCTION 



The embassy left London on the 10th of December, 
and reached France in safety after a tedious passage 
in bad weather. I myself was detained by sickness at 
Boulogne, and staid there five days after the company, 
until my fever was abated, so that I did not arrive at 
Paris till the first of January. Yet notwithstanding 
the roughness of the weather and the fatigue of tra- 
velling, I was perfectly cured of my cough in ten days, 
nor had I the least return of it during the whole 
winter, although it was as severe there as I ever felt 
it in England. It was chiefly on account of my cough 
that I left London at that time of the year, for I had 
thrice before experienced the great benefit of the 
French air 3 and had therefore for many years longed 
for an opportunity of visiting France, but the conti- 
nuance of the war was an insuperable obstacle to 
my desires. The first opportunity therefore which 
offered itself I readily embraced, and this was my 
Lord Portland's e acceptance of my attendance on him 



lawyers and inferior clergy, and even the cyprians, were 
united together in the faction against the Duke of Marl- 
borough. Burnet. — Cunningham. 

• The Earl of Portland was one of the three plenipoten- 
tiaries. He was a native of Holland, and came over at the 
Revolution, with the Prince of Orange. Prior to that time 
he had been the confidential servant of the prince, and had 
been employed by him on some very important occasions,. 
In the year 1689 he was created Earl of Portland, and made 
Groom of the Stole. For ten years he was entirely trusted 
by the king, and served him with great fidelity and obse- 
quiousness, but was never a favourite of the English na- 
tion, probably from their jealousy of, and contempt for 



INTRODUCTION. 



25 



in his extraordinary embassy. I was directed by him 
to go before with one of my good friends, who was 
sent to make the necessary preparations before his 
Lordship's arrival. 

Now for the sake of clearness in relating what I 
saw at Paris, I will arrange the subject under distinct 
heads. 



foreigners. He was at length supplanted in the king's 
confidence by Keppel, who from being a page, was, without 
any pretensions whatever, raised to the dignity of an earl, 
by the title of Albemarle, and had the disposal of all grants. 
This the Earl of Portland resented, and being disgusted 
with the manifest superiority of favour which his rival had 
acquired during his absence, he made some slight infringe- 
ment upon his office of Groom of the Stole, the pretence for 
laying down his employments, and retiring from Court. 
The king used every method, but in vain, to induce him to 
depart from this resolution. His Lordship did not, however, 
decline the service of his master, but accepted of foreign, 
employments from him, and retained his attachment to th© 
last ; so that when the king was at the point of death, and 
the Earl, who had been summoned to attend, arrived, the 
voice of the king failing him, he took him by the hand, and 
carried it to his heart with great tenderness. — Burnet. 



CHAP. I. 



OF PARIS IN GENERAL. 



ALTHOUGH during the six months' which I 
spent in Paris, I had much leisure^ yet the inclemency 



f The tardiness of the negociations is thus accounted for 
by Burnet. The treaty went on slowly till Harlai the chief 
of the French plenipotentiaries came to the Hague; it was 
believed that he had the secret, he shewed a fairer inclina- 
tion than the rest to treat frankly and honourably, and to 
clear all the difficulties that had been started before. But 
while they were negociating by exchanging papers, the Mar- 
shal Boufflers desired a conference with the Earl of Portland, 
and by the order of their masters they met four times, and 
were long alone. Lord Portland afterwards told Burnet 
that the subject of their conference was king James. It 
was at length settled, that James should retire to Avignon, 
and that ^50,000, the jointure of his queen, should be 
paid her at once. A cotemporary French writer places the 
matter in much the same point of view. " Another difficulty, 
real or pretended," he says, " was the acknowledgement of 
William's title. When the French plenipotentiaries had 
promised that the king their master should own him for 
king of Great Britain, they appeared to set a great value 



AM ACCOUNT 



of the season confined me for some time. On this 
account partly, and partly because I have no taste 
for building and painting, I did not see the tenth part 
of what deserved not only to be seen, but minutely 
examined. Yet I inspected the city in all its parts, 
I made the circuit of it, and took several prospects of 
it at a distance ; and I am compelled, to acknowledge 
that it is one of the most beautiful and magnificent in 
Europe. A city, in and around which, a stranger 
might find novelties enough for his daily amusement 
for at least six months. 

Without entering into the common but useless 
dispute as to the number of the inhabitants, or the 
dimensions of this noble city compared with London, 
I perfectly recollect that, when the Ambassador made 
his public entry, the crowd that was collected to see 
the procession was so enormous, that our people were 
startled at it, and were, when the subject was dis- 
cussed, ready to concede the point in favour of Paris. 

The curiosity of the Parisians, however, requires 
to be made a part of the consideration, for they are 
inordinately fond of pageantry, far more so than the 
citizens of London, and it really seemed as if they 
had all flocked to the cavalcade. One circumstance 
was an evident and convincing argument of the truth 



on that concession, and assumed, that it ought to have the 
effect of softening him as to other articles to which Lewis 
was adverse. But William replied with warmth, " that 
they might erase that article, and treat of the others, for 
that, that did not deserve to hinder them." 

Annales de Cour et de Paris pour 1' ann. 1697-98. 



OF PARIi. 



59 



of this propensity, namely, that there were several 
hundred carriages of persons of the first quality, some 
even of peers and bishops, which were placed so as 
to line the streets in file, and had been in that situa- 
tion for several hours. 

It is also most certain, that for the quantity of 
ground possessed by the common people, this city is 
much more populous than any part of London ; here 
are from four to five and even ten Menaffes, or 
distinct families in many houses; this, however, is 
only to be understood of certain places in trade. 
There is also this difference between the two cities, 
that here the palaces and convents have abolished the 
dwellings of the people, and crowded them excessively 
together, occupying far the greatest part of the 
ground ; whereas in London the contrary may be ob- 
served, viz. that the people have destroyed the pala- 
ces, and seated themselves upon the foundations of 
them, and forced the nobility to live in squares or 
streets, in a sort of community • this, however, they 
have done very honestly, having fairly purchased 
them. 

The views of the river Seine from different parts of 
the city are admirable, particularly from the Pont- 
neuf downwards to the Tuilleries, or from the Pont- 
royal upwards; also from Pont St. Bernard, the 
Greve, &c. This river, which passes through the 
midst of the city, has its banks every where lined 
with large free stone ; in the very centre of the city 
it incloses two islands, which communicate with the 
«ity by many very beautiful bridges. Of these islands^ 



AN ACCOUNT 



that which is called 1' Isle du Palais was for several 
ages the whole of Paris. 

The houses are either entirely built of hewnstone, 
or of stone less accurately finished ; of the latter, the 
walls are rough-cast. At the beginning of the reign 
of the present king, some houses were built both of 
brick and stone, as the Place-Royal, Place-Dauphin, 
&c. that mode is however now entirely discontinued. 
In some few instances, as in the Abbey of St. Germain, 
the plaister front is made to resemble brick-work. 

The houses are every where high and stately ; the 
churches numerous but not large, the towers and 
steeples but few in proportion to the churches. Some 
of the churches are finished with that noble way of 
steeple-building by domes or cupolas, which has a 
surprising effect in prospect : that of the Val de Grace, 
des Invalides, College Mazarin, De 1' Assumption, 
the Grand Jesuits, La Sorbonne, and some few others 
are examples of this. 

All the houses of persons of distinction are built 
with port-cocheres, that is, wide gates to allow of 
carriages being driven in; there are consequently 
courts within the gates, and generally remises, or 
coach-houses, to protect them from the weather. Of 
these gate-ways, there are estimated to be more than 
seven hundred, very many of which have the pillars 
carved and formed after the most noble patterns of 
ancient architecture. 

The lowest windows of all the houses are secured 
with strong iron bars, which must have been attended 
with a vast expence. 



OF PARIS. 



31 



As the houses are magnificent on the outside, so 
the decorations within are elegant and sumptuous. 
The gildings, carvings, and paintings of the ceilings, 
are admirable in point of workmanship and finishing ; 
while the hangings of rich tapestry, raised with threads 
of gold and silver ; the beds of crimson damask and 
velvet, or of gold and silver tissue; cabinets and 
bureaus of ivory, inlaid with tortoise-shell ; and gold 
and silver ornaments in a great variety of fashions ; 
branches of crystal and candlesticks of the same, and, 
above all, most rare pictures, declare the costliness 
and grandeur of the furniture. 

Displays of this sort are, in Paris and its vicinity, 
in such variety and excess, that you cannot enter the 
private dwellings of men of any substance without 
being struck with them ; so that it is no uncommon 
thing, for the gentry to ruin themselves in these ex- 
pences, for every one who has any thing to spare, is 
uneasy till he has laid it out in the purchase of sculp- 
ture or paintings, the productions of some eminent 
artist. And this has been observed to be more par- 
ticularly the case with individuals, who have become 
suddenly rich by inheritance, or other means. The 
whole is immediately expended in the purchase of or- 
namental furniture, or in the decorations of a garden ; 
so that it is scarcely conceivable, what a vast variety 
of fine things there is to gratify and delight the cu- 
rious stranger. Yet after all, there are so many uten- 
sils and conveniencies of life, which are common in 
England, wanting here, that M- Justall, a Parisian 5 
told me he had made a catalogue of such deficiencies^ 
end that they. wer& threescore ia number. 



m 



AN ACCOUNT 



The streets are paved with square stones, about 
eight or ten inches in thickness, so that they are as deep 
in the ground, as they are broad at top; the gutter* 
are without edges, so that carriages glide easily over 
them. The streets, however, are very narrow, and 
people on foot are not secured from the hurry and 
danger of coaches, which always pass with an air of 
haste ; nor is the noise made by a full trot upon broad 
flat stones, and between lofty and resounding houses, 
so pleasing to the ears of strangers, as it would seem 
to be to the Parisians. 

The royal palaces are surprisingly stately, particu- 
larly the Louvre, the Tuilleries, the Palais Luxem- 
bourg, and the Palais Royal. 

The convents are spacious, well built, and numer- 
ous; the squares are few, but greatly admired, 
particularly the Place Royal ; Place Victoire, Place 
Dauphin, which is the least of all except the Place 
Vendosme, and that is in an unfinished state. 

The gardens, which are within the w alls of the city 
and thrown open to the public, are of large extent, 
and extremely beautiful; of these the principal are 
the Tuilleries, the Palais Royal, Luxembourg, the 
royal physic garden, that of the Arsenal, and many 
others belonging to the convents. 

But that which renders a residence in this city par- 
ticularly agreeable to people of quality, is the facility 
of driving into the fields which lie around in all di- 
rections, and the avenues to which are well paved. 
These places of airing are perfectly clean, and the 
drives are either open or shaded, as the time of the day, 
the season of the year, or the inclination of individuals 



OF PARIS. 



33 



may require. The Cour de la Reyne, Bois de Bo- 
logne, Bois de Vincennes, Les Sables, de Vaugerarde 
are the principal of these. 

But to descend to a more particular review of this 
great city, I think it not amiss to speak first of the 
streets and public places, and what may be seen in 
them; in the next place of the houses of greatest 
note, and what curiosities of nature or art they con- 
tain ; also of the individuals with whom I conversed, 
and the museums and libraries to which I had access. 
In the next place I shall speak of the diet of the 
Parisians and their recreations ; then of the gardens 
and thair furniture and ornaments; and lastly, of the 
air of Paris, the health of the citizens, and the present 
state of physic and pharmacy there. 



G 



CHAP. II. 



OF THE STREETS AND PUBLIC PLACES, AND THE 
OBJECTS THAT ARE TO BE SEEN IN THllM. 



THE carriages here are very numerous, and much 
embellished with gilding; there are very few of them, 
and none except those of the prime nobility, that are 
large and have a double seat. But what they want in the 
size, beauty and neatness of ours in London, is amply 
compensated by their superior ease, and by the facility 
with which they turn in the narrowest streets. They 
are all crane-necked, with the fore-wheels very small, 
not exceeding two feet and a half in diameter. By 
this contrivance, they are not only easy to be entered, 
but the coach-box is brought down so low, that the 
prospect through the front glasses is but little im- 
peded ; while in the London carriages, the high-seated 
coachman is always in the point of view. Another 
advantage which they possess is, that they are hung 
with double springs at each of the four corners, which 
insensibly break or prevent all jolts; and this ex- 
pends even to the fiacres, or hackney-coaches, I never 



OF 



PARIS. 



was so sensible of the comfort of riding in French 
carriages, to which I had now been accustomed some 
months, as when I had occasion to ride in one of the 
easiest belonging to the Ambassador, and which was 
very recently brought from England. In this, every 
inequality in the road was felt in such a degree, that 
it was less fatiguing to ride six hours in a French 
carriage, than one only in this. 

In addition to the vast number of coaches which 
are kept by the nobility and gentry, there are carri* 
ages de remise ; these, which are let out by the month, 
are handsomely gilt, and have good horses, and neat 
harness. They are hired by strangers by the day or 
the month, at the rate of fifteen shillings a day. The 
remise is so much in request that it deprives the hack- 
ney coaches and chairs of their business ; indeed these 
last are the most nasty and miserable voitures, (vehi- 
cles) that can be imagined, and yet they are nearly as 
dear again as carriages of that description are in 
London. Fortunately there are but few of them. 

There is still another vehicle used in this city, of 
which I should have been glad to omit the mention, 
thinking it at first sight either very scandalous or a 
burlesque ; it is the vinegrette ; it is mounted on two 
wheels, and drawn by a man, and pushed behind by a 
Woman, or boy, or both. In so magnificent a city, 
this is a wretched business, and unworthy the people 
or the place. There are also, for quick travelling, 
post chaises for single persons, and rouillons for two ; 
these run on two wheels, and have double springs 
which render their motion very easy. They go with 
great speed, and are drawn by two horses, one of 

c 2 



39 



AH ACCOUNT 



which is in the thills. The rouillon is mounted by 

the driver, but he rides one of the horses in the post- 
chaise. Neither of these vehicles are in use in En- 
gland, but might be introduced to good purpose. 

As for their recreations and walks, there are no 
people more fond of meeting together for the sake of 
conversation, and to see others and be seen them- 
selves. This is their principal occupation, and in the 
pursuit of it the Cour de la Reyne is frequented by 
all people of condition. It is a treble row of trees, 
with a drive and two walks ; one of the walks being 
on the bank of the Seine. The drive is sufficiently 
capacious to allow of eight files of carriages ; in 
the centre is a very large circle to admit of their 
turning, and at each end is an ample and magnificent 
gate. They who would have freer and purer air, 
drive to the Bois de Bologne, or Vincennes ; indeed 
there is scarcely any direction in which this accommo- 
dation is not afforded. They who prefer walking, go 
to the Tuilleries, the Luxembourg, and the other 
gardens belonging to the king and princes ; all of 
which are very spacious, and fitted up with convenient 
seats for the accommodation of all classes of society, 
the lacqueys and the mob excepted. Of this, how- 
ever, I shall say more hereafter. 

Of all classes of society, none make a better figure 
than the bishops, who have very splendid equipages, 
and a variety of handsome liveries. Most of them 
are men of family, and to that they owe their prefer- 
ment ; for learning is a less necessary qualification for 
those dignities in France than with us ; many of them 
are, however, very learned and deserving men. I 



OF PARIS. 



37 



©bserved that they are chiefly noblemen, or at least 
the younger sons of the best families. This indeed 
may be for the honour of the church, but it is very 
doubtful whether it tends to the advancement of 
learning, or the promotion of piety. They may be 
the patrons of learned men, yet there are but few 
examples of erudition among them. It were to be 
desired that they as much exceeded others in merit, 
as they do in birth. 

The Abbots are numerous here, and resort from all 
parts of the kingdom to the capital. They also make 
si considerable figure, being a more genteel sort of 
clergy, and only second to the bishops. They are 
by far the most eminent for learning, and have been 
so reputed from the time of Cardinal s Richlieu, who 

e This eminent statesman was the prime, or rather sole 
minister of Lewis xiii. His genius, while he stripped the 
French of their liberties, conferred on them learning, dis- 
cipline, and glory. It is a fact, admitted by all historians, 
that the great rebellion in England was the effect of his ma- 
chinations with the Scotch. The provocations which he had 
received were rather personal than national ; and to be re- 
venged on Charles, and his Queen, and the Duke of Buck- 
ingham, he had recourse to those measures of force and fraud 
which were but too successful. He was the tyrant of the 
king his master, and of all the nobility in the kingdom. 
Many splendid national works were performed during his 
administration, and he left France more flourishing and 
vigorous than he found it. His insolence and display of 
wealth caused him numerous enemies, who conspired against 
his power and life, but he died a natural death at the age of 
58, and preserved his ascendancy to the last. Many sarcastic 
epitaphs were written on him ? of which I will here insert 
two; 



38 



AN ACCOUNT 



selected men of the greatest talents and acquirements, 
to fill these dignities. This he did very frankly, with- 
out their even knowing his design before hand, much 
less soliciting preferment of him. He took a sure 
way, and one peculiar to himself, which was to inquire 
privately for men of desert, and to take his own time 
for preferring them. By these means he filled France 
with learned men, and gave great encouragement to 
study. 

It is surprising to observe the discipline in which 
the King keeps this great city, by exacting obedience 
on small occasions. He issued an order, that the 
citizens should all take down the signs h over their 



On the Ten Thousand Lights at Card* Richlieu? s Funeral. 
66 France is at length from fetters freed, 
And Richlieu stretch'd on bier ; 
But why to hell when we proceed, 

Needs so much light appear?" 
i6 Now, Richlieu, fate has cut thy thread, 
And numbered thee among the dead, 

Men rail till out, of breath : 
But freed from envy, spleen and strife. 
However I might hate thy life, 
I much approve thy death." 
* In the beginning of the last century there was scarcely 
a shop without an appropriate sign, nor were these emblems 
disallowed in England until an express Act of Parliament 
had passed. Before this change took place, the universal 
use of signs furnished the inferior rank of painters with no 
small employment: sometimes too the superior' artists were 
engaged. There was even a market for signs, suitable to all 
trades and customers, and ready for use, in Harp Alley, 
Shoe Lane,— Edwards's Anecd. of Painters. 



OF PARIS. 



S3 



3hops, at once, and that for the future no sign should 
exceed a certain standard, nor project more than a 
foot or two from the walls. This order was imme- 
diately and cheerfully 1 obeyed ; so that the signs being 



1 The adulation and obsequiousness of the French to their 
sovereign, in this reign in particular, was carried to an ex- 
treme at once serious and ludicrous, to an excess unheard of 
in Europe. The king lamented to an Abbe the loss of his 
teeth one after another. " Sire," said the latter, " who has 
any teeth?" On anotker occasion, the king when he was 
sixty, asked a courtier, what was his age ? He replied, u and 
please your majesty, I am the age of everybody, I am sixty." 
It was generally known that Lewis was afflicted with a ma- 
lady, the fistula, which, in point of delicacy, patients are 
desirous to conceal. But the good people of Paris were 
desirous of being thought to labour under the same disease 
as their king, and even applied to the surgeons, pressing them 
to perform the operation, and when they were informed that 
no complaint existed, they went away angry. So that fistula 
became a fashionable disease, and we find the surgeons of the 
time complaining, that their patients, whatever might be their 
complaints, would be examined for fistula. And all this from 
their excessive complaisance to a monarch, who was afterwards 
as much despised, as he had been adored, and at whose 
funeral the only demonstrations were those of joy. At the 
dose of his life he was abandoned by the Jesuit Tellier, his 
confessor, who left the royal penitent to settle his peace with 
heaven by himself, while he made his court to the rising sun * 
the Duke de Maine, the successor, was otherwise occupied 
than in waiting on a dying parent ; and old Madame de 
Maintenon quitted him four days before his death. The 
people publicly expressed their satisfaction at his death, and 
the court was afraid to let the funeral procession pass 
through the city, lest insults should be offered to the corpse ; 
aad hi one of the bye-roads, through which the procession 



m 



AN ArC0t T XT 



very small in their dimensions, and raised very high, 
no longer obscure or incommode the streets. 

There are in Paris great numbers of hotelleries, 
or hotels, by which term is meant public inns, where 
lodgings are let. But by a confusion of names, the 
houses of noblemen and gentlemen are called the 
same ; these, however, have for the most part, titles 
over the gate in letters of gold, on black marble. Yet 
the term seems to imply that they came at first to 
Paris as strangers only, and resided at public inns, 
but at length built inns or houses for themselves. It 
is certain that a great and wealthy city cannot be 
without people of quality, nor can there be such a 
court as that of France, without a constant know- 
ledge of what such people do. But the question is, 
whether they can be spared from the country ? The 
common people of England seem to have less manners 
and religion, where the gentry have left them wholly 
to themselves ; the taxes also are raised with more 
difficulty, inequality and injustice, when the land pro- 



went, onions were distributed as necessary to draw forth 
tears for the death of such a king, whom they surnamed the 
bad, and loaded his memory with execrations. The satirical 
and sarcastic verses which were published at his death were 
innumerable. The following may be taken as a specimen, 
and is among the most moderate : 

If France, Lewis, now thy soul is fled, 

Weep not, but seems of feeling quite bereft ; 

So many tears throughout thy reign she shed, 
That, quite exhausted, not another's left. 

D'Alembert, Mem. de M. le Due de Richlieu. 
M. Dionis. 



OF PARIS. 



41 



prietors are absent, than when they reside upon their 
demesnes k . 

It may well be, that within the last forty years, 
Paris is in a manner a new city ; it is certain, that 
since the present king came to the crown, it is so 
much altered for the better, as to be quite another 
place ; and if that which the workmen told me be 
true, viz, that a common house, built of stone, and 
plaistered over, will not last above twenty-five years, 
the greatest part of the city has been lately rebuilt. 

Between the bridges in the river, are vast numbers 
of boats laden with wood, hay, charcoal, corn and 
wine, and other commodities. Occasionally, when a 
sudden thaw takes place, these boats are driven 
against the bridges, which are in danger of being 
ruined by the shock ; not unfrequently the boats are 
crushed to pieces by the concussion, and great losses 
have been sustained by the owners. In consequence 
of these accidents, it has been proposed to form a 
large basin near the city for a winter harbour ; but, 
as the measure affords no prospect of emolument to 
the government, the individuals who are interested 



k Queen Elizabeth was so sensible of this truth, that when 
she observed the increase of London, which she did with 
regret, she issued a proclamation prohibiting new buildings. 
This her successor often renewed in the course of his reign, 
and even menaced the gentry who lived in town. He wa* 
wont, says Lord Bacon, to be very earnest with the country 
gentlemen to go from London to their country seats ; u Gen- 
tlemen," he would say, " at London you are like ships in a 
sea, which show like nothing ; but in your country villages, 
you are like ships in a river, which look like great things, 5 ' 



AN ACCOUNT 



are left to execute the project themselves, Farming 
the taxes is admirably well understood here ; and no 
speculations are so likely to succeed, as those which 
will increase the revenue. 

Among the living objects which are to be seen in 
the streets of Paris, none make a more remarkable 
and distinct figure than the counsellors, and chief 
officers of the courts of justice. They and their wives 
have their trains carried up, and in this manner there 
are vast numbers of them seen parading the streets. 
It is on this account that places of this nature sell 1 



1 This practice of making a traffic of the offices of judica- 
ture was of long standing when Lewis the ixth. surnamed St. 
Lewis, endeavoured to abolish it as unworthy of a king, and 
lending to great abuses. But his successors reviving it, made 
public sale of the offices, and filled them with the highest 
bidders ; such as were not sold, were held by commissioners 
revocable at the pleasure of the king. Afterwards they werfc 
made-perpetual, and only became vacant by death, resigna- 
tion, or misbehaviour ; this last was calledforfeiture. Lewis 
the xiith. personally, and Francis the first, and Henry the ii t 
publicly sold these offices ; but Henry the iii. went beyond 
them. Henry the iv. rendered them hereditary on condition 
that the holder should pay every year the sixtieth denier of 
the price, which was called the Annual Right. These 
offices were termed the Paulette, and the officers Paulettors, 
from one Paulet who invented it. — Vasor ; Hist, du Regne de 
Louis xiii. 

The following account of the heirship and venality of 
Judicial Officers in France is given by Mr. Butler in his 
Reminiscences : When the king established a new court of 
justice, the number of judges and magistrates was fixed, and 
the sums to be paid by them for grants of their respective 
offices. The candidates petitioned the king for them, the 



OF PARIS. 



4S, 



so well ; for a man, having a right to qualify a wife 
with this honour, may command a fortune. A similar 
privilege is that of carrying to church a large velvet 
cushion. For the en joyment of this, the appointment 
of a lawyer is valued at one third the more. 

In the streets are also to be seen great numbers and 
various orders of Monks, in habits that, to us English- 
men, are strange and unusual. They make an odd_ 
figure, but serve well to fill up the scene and give a 
finish to it. Some of the orders are cloathed decently 
enough, such as the J esuits, the Fathers of the Ora- 
tory, &c. but most of them are very peculiar and ob- 
solete in their dress, preserving the rustic habit of 
ancient times, without linen, or any of the ornaments 
of the present age. 

I cannot divest myself of compassion for the mis- 
taken zeal of these poor men, who, renouncing the 
world, put themselves into religion as they call it, 



grants were made by letters under the great seal, and from 
that time the offices were hereditary in the family of the 
grantee, who might in his life-time, or his heirs after his de- 
cease, dispose of it by sale. When the sale of an office took 
place, the purchaser petitioned the crown for the grant of it ? 
and when the grant was signed he paid, besides the price which 
the vendor was to receive for it, a sum of money, varying from 
one to two thousand crowns, into the royal treasury, Anu 
this sum on any subsequent sale was returned to him or his 
heirs. Great care was, however, taken that the purchaser 
should be properly qualified, that he should have taken a 
degree in the civil and canon law, undergo a most strict exa- 
mination, belong to families of great respectability, and pos- 
sess a fortune, placing him considerably above want. 



AN ACCOUNT 



and impose upon themselves the most rigid and severe 
rules of diet and life. As to their meagre and mise- 
rable fare, m it is in direct opposition to nature, and 
the improved mode of living among civilized nations. 
The Mosaic law, which provided far better for the 
Jews, was instituted to promote health and cleanli- 
ness. And as to the Christian law, although it enjoins 
humility, patience under sufferings, and mortification* 
for, and abstinence from sinful gratifications; yet it 
by no means confines us to any distinct, much less to 
unwholesome food, but grants the liberty to eat any 
thing whatsoever. It is enough, if we must suffer 
persecution, to endure it and all the miserable cir- 
cumstances that attend it with patience; but wan- 
tonly n to persecute ourselves, is to offer violence to 



m This mistaken zeal is justly reprehended in the following 
Epigram by Vincentius Guinisius : 

Quid juvat exiguis jejunia ponere mensis 5 

Et sese teniri debilitare cibo ? 
Si gravis est vitiis animus, si pectus onustum 

Criminibus, satias si tibi nulla mali est: 
Non domat is corpus, dapibusqui parcit opimis : 
Qui vitiis animum non alit, ille domat. 
* A singular mode of self-persecution, adopted by thes^ 
fanatics, was that of whipping themselves by way of penance. 
It is said that Panduiphus, an abbot, who lived in the 8th 
century, caused himself to be whipped daily during Lentj 
but it does not appear to have been a voluntary discipline 
till the eleventh century. It is an historical fact, that in 
the year 1174, Henry the 2d. disrobed himself before a 
chapter of monks at Canterbury, and putting a scourge 
of discipline into the hands of each, presented his bar© 
shoulders to the lashes which these ecclesiastics successive!/ 



OF PARIS. 



the mild spirit of Christianity, and to place ourselves 
in a far worse state than the Jews themselves were in. 
To choose the worst food, such as sour herbs, slimy 
fish, and such like trash ; to lie upon bare boards ; to 



inflicted on him. At about this time the practice was carried 
to a great extreme, and it is recorded of a monk named 
Rodolphus, and of one Dominicus, that they every day re- 
peated an entire psalm, and whipped themselves cruelly the 
whole time, thinking that by twenty of these performances 
they would redeem a hundred years penance. 

At one time it was usual for penitents after confession to 
receive this discipline from the hands of their confessor ; 
even kings submitted to it, nor did female delicacy restrain 
that timid sex from submitting to the lash. Of this there is 
an amusing story on record : a man having followed his wife 
to confession, and seeing the confessor lead her behind 
the altar to give her the discipline, exclaimed, My God, my 
poor wife is too tender, I had rather receive the discipline 
for her; and that having fallen on his knees for this pur- 
pose, his wife said to the confessor, u Beat him hard, Father^ 
for I am a great sinner." 

This mode of doing psnance grew so much into fashion 
and request, that in the year 1260, a sect sprang up called 
Flagellants, or whippers, and multitudes of people of all ages 
and quality, and both sexes, ran through the towns and fields 
whipping themselves severely. There were even fraternities 
and processions of these enthusiasts in France, until they 
were suppressed by the Parliament of Paris in the year 1601. 
At Madrid there was a similar sect who were clad in white., 
and wore a long and high monk's cowl, and who whipt 
themselves as they walked the streets with cords full of knots, 
at the end of which were small balls of wax with fragments 
of glass stuck in them for the purpose of drawing blood from 
their hides. This discipline they generally practised or. 
Holy Thursday and Good Friday. 



46 



AN ACCOUNT 



use coarse and unclean woollen frocks for cloa thing' ; 
to go barefoot in a cold country ; to deny themselves 
the comforts of life, and the society of mankind ; is to 
undermine the health, to renounce the greatest bless- 
ings of this life, and in a manner to commit suicide. 
These men cannot but be chagrined and out of humor 
with the world, and must in time grow weary of such 
slavish and fruitless devotion, which is not even alle- 
viated by an active life. Nor are they consistent 
with themselves in thus neglecting the care and 
cleanliness of their persons, while they preserve 
their churches so clean, adorn them so pompously, 
and even perfume them. 

Such is the vast multitude of poor wretches in all 
parts of this city, that whether a person is in a car- 
riage, or on foot, in the street or even in a shop, he is 
alike unable to transact business on account of the 
importunities of mendicants. It is indeed very la- 
mentable to behold them, and to hear the recital of 
their miseries, but if you venture to relieve one, you 
instantly bring down a whole swarm of them upon 
you. These are monks indeed, and not from choice 
but necessity ; they find the evil of the day sufficient, 
and neither invite nor make a mockery of the miseries 
of this life. They offer their prayers for a farthing, 
and for a morsel of bread will make a saint of any one. 



* This seems to have been an ancient and successful ex- 
pedient for provoking charity. Shew him a roll, says 
Burton, in which his name shall be registered in golden let- 
ters, and his bounty commended to all posterity, his arms 
set up, and his devices to be seen, and then peradventure he 
will contribute. — Anatomy of Melancholy, p. 524. 



OF PARIS. 



Let us, however, leave these unhappy people, and 
Reflect that health and courage are the natural 
effects of plenty of wholesome food, and that the ex- 
clusion from marriage of a particular class of the peo- 
ple p , proves a deduction from mankind but little less 
in degree than a constant war. 

The public is but little disturbed in this city with 
cries of things to be sold, or with the hawkers of 
pamphlets ; and if any thing happens to be lost, the 

p It was Gregory vii. who in the year 1074 first compelled 
the clergy to a strict observance of celibacy. This his pre- 
decessors had attempted without, success. He caused a 
council to decree that all the sacerdotal orders should ab- 
stain from marriage, and that such as already had wives 
should dismiss them, or quit the priestly office. This law 
was most strenuously opposed by the clergy, who complained 
loudly of its cruelty and severity, and many of them chose 
rather to give up their benefices than their wives. Even 
those who approved of the celibacy of the clergy, condemned 
the course taken by Gregory as unjust and criminal in dis- 
solving the chastest bonds of wedlock, and thus involving 
husbands and wives with their tender offspring in disgrace, 
perplexity, anguish and want. And this law he subsequently 
confirmed under severer penalties. On this subject, a saying 
of Pius the second, who filled the pontificial chair several 
centuries after Gregory, is preserved, viz. " that there is 
great cause why the clergy should be deprived of marriage, 
but still greater cause why they should marry. 1 " 

q At this time it was the custom in London, for new pub- 
lications to be announced in the streets by hawkers ; to 
whom Pope alludes in the following lines : 

What though my name stood rubric on the wails,. 

Or plaster'd posts, with claps, on capitals ! 

Orsmoaking forth, a hundred hawkers' load, 

On wings of winds came flying ail abroad ! 

Prol. to the Satires, 215. 



48 



AN ACCOUNT 



method of making it known is by placing papers at 
the corners of the streets with these words in great 
letters, Un, Deux, Cinq, Dix, jusq ; a Cinquante 
Louisse a gagner ; that is, from one to fifty Louises to 
be got ; then follows an account of what has been 
lost. This seems a good and quiet way of making 
public any loss, and the person who has found the pro- 
perty is thus informed where to repair with it, and to 
receive his reward. 

Gazettes are issued but once in a week, and few 
individuals purchase them. 

To publish a libel here without discovery is very 
difficult, and if discovered is very dangerous to its 
author. While I was at Paris, a new and ingenious 
method of disseminating a paper of this kind was em- 
ployed : a certain person gave a bundle of libels to a 
blind beggar of the Quincevint, telling him that for 
every penny he might get five pence. He went during 
the service to Notre-Dame, and bawled out the title 
which was " La vie et miracles de l'Evesque de 
Rheims." As soon as the first purchasers had read the 
title further, and found that the libel was levelled 
against the Archbishop, who is also a duke, and first 
peer of the realm, it went off at any rate. This was 
a trick of the Jesuits, with whom the Archbishop had 
had a dispute concerning the doctrines of Molinas, a 
Spanish priest of that order. 

Through the whole of the winter, as well when the 
moon shines as when it is dark, the streets are lit ; 
which I saw with the greater pleasure, because in 
London the practice is to discontinue the lights for 
half the month, as though the light of the moon was 



OF PARIS. 49 

sure not to be obscured by clouds. The lanterns 
here are suspended over the middle of the streets ; 
they are about twenty feet high, and the same distance 
apart. They are formed of square glass about two 
feet deep, and are covered with a broad plate of iron. 
The rope which suspends them, is secured and locked 
up in an iron funnel inclosed in a small wooden trunk, 
which is fastened against the wall of the house. These 
lanterns have candles in them, four of which weigh a 
pound, and they continue to burn till after midnight. 
If any man chance to break one of these lanterns he is 
forthwith sent to the galleys r , one instance of which 
offence and punishment occurred during our stay in 
Paris. Three young men of good families were com- 
mitted to prison, for having in a frolic been guilty of 
this offence; they were detained there for several 
months, nor could they at last obtain their liberation, 
but by the continued intercession of some friends at 
court. 

In the winter extraordinary care is taken to keep 
the streets clean ; upon the giving out of a frost, a 
Heavy machine which is drawn by a horse, makes a 
quick riddance of whatever obstructs the gutters, so 
that in the space of a day all parts of the town 
are made clean to admiration. I heartily wish I 
could commend equally their attention to cleanliness 
in summer, for it is certainly quite necessary to keep 



r The galley is proverbially considered as a place of 
toilsome misery, because criminals who are sentenced to 
it, are not only deprived of their liberty, but condemned 
to hard labour. — Johnson. 



50 



AN ACCOUNT 



so populous a city sweet as well as clean ; no machine, 
however, that has yet been invented has power to effect 
this object, nor can any one be contrived that will 
prove effectual, unless it carries away all the inhabi- 
tants too. Inscriptions upon the walls, threats and 
even penalties, have been found useless. In one re- 
spect Paris has a great advantage over London during 
the summer ; which is, that it is not annoyed by dust. 
The reason of this exception is, that the streets being 
paved with square stones having a broad surface, re- 
quire but little sand to give them steadiness. Whereas 
the streets in London, are pitched with irregularly 
shaped pebbles, which require a great quantity of 
sand, and this, when the wind blows, causes a dust 
that is always troublesome, and sometimes intolerable. 

From the living, I will now turn to the dead orna- 
ments in the streets. There is every where to be 
seen an infinite number of heads and busts of the 
Grand Monarque, which are erected by the citizens ; 
but scarcely any of the nobility, a circumstance which^ 
considering the ability and obsequious disposition of 
the people, is surprising. 

The statue of the king in the Place Victoire s is 
on foot, it is composed of brass but is gilded all over. 
Close behind is the statue of Victoire, that is, a female 
of vast size, with wings, holding a laurel crown over 
the head of the king, and resting one foot upon a 
globe. Great exceptions are taken by artists to the 



9 This statue is modestly inscribed a Viro Immortali," 
" To the immortal man." 



OF PARIS. 



51 



gilding, the lustre of which spoils the features, and 
causes an indescribable confusion. If it had been 
made of pure gold and lacquered, the true lights and 
shades would have been refected, and the eye of the 
spectator would have been enabled to judge of the 
proportions. But that which I chiefly dislike in this 
performance, is the great woman perpetually at the 
king's back; which, instead of expressing victory, 
seems to act as an incumbrance, and to fatigue him 
with her company. The Roman Victory * was of a 
very different description : it was a small puppet, car- 
ried in the hand of the emperor, and which he could 
dispose of at pleasure. This woman is enough to give 
a man a surfeit. 

The other statues are equestrian and of brass, and 
represent the three last kings of France. That on the 
Pont-neuf is of Henry IV. in armour ; it is bare- 
headed, and habited according to the mode of the 
time. The second, which is in the Place Royale, is 
armed after the fashion of the age ; on the head-piece 
is a plume of feathers. The third is the present king, 
Lewis XIV, and is designed for the Place Vendosme. 



1 The Roman Victory was represented with wings, she had 
a laurel crown on her head, and the branch of a palm-tree 
in her hand. We are told by Plutarch, that when the Roman 
Victors rode in triumph, a slave sat behind them, occasionally 
striking them on the neck. The moral of which was two- 
fold, viz. that they should remember themselves, and not be 
elated; and that the beholders should be encouraged to 
hope that, by emulating the valour of the victor, they may 
attain an equal dignity. 

D 2 



1 



AN ACCOUNT 



This Colossus of brass u is still in the very place where 
it was cast ; it is astonishingly large, the figure of 

u The effect of this statue is scarcely commensurate to 
the cost and trouble of making it. It seems to lose some- 
thing by being compared with the very beautiful equestrian 
statue of Philip the iv, at the Buen Retiro at Madrid. 
The attitude of the horse is surprisingly bold, both his fore 
feet being in the air. Eighty-three thousand nine hundred 
and sixty-eight pounds of metal were employed in casting it. 
In an inventory of the effects of the Retiro it was valued at 
the enormous sum of ^28,000. Its height including the pe- 
destal, is nineteen feet nine inches. It was erected, very 
injudiciously, in a small flower garden belonging to the 
palace, and was some time ago proposed to be removed to 
a better situation, but the prime minister, Grimaldi, ob- 
jected to it, unless the head of Philip could he changed for 
that of Charles the third ! — Dillon's Travels through Spain, 
p. 77. ed. 2. 

But the statue of Peter the Great at Petersburg is far more 
admired than either of these. The model of it was exhibited 
to the public for a year, to afford M. Falconet the artist an 
opportunity of hearing the remarks that might be made upon 
it. It represents the Czar on horseback, riding up a rock of 
granite. The figure of the monarch is eleven feet high, the 
dress is in the old Russian stile, with half boots, whiskers, and 
a shock head of hair surrounded with a laurel crown. The right 
arm is extended, the head is considered as a great likeness, 
and the whole attitude is noble and full of expression. The 
horse is executed in high perfection, animated with great fire 
and exertion, galloping up the rock, one hind foot treading 
on a snake. The statue is a cast, composed of bell-metal, 
copper, tin and zinc, the weight 44,041 Russian pounds, be- 
sides 10,000 pounds of iron in the hinder part of the horse 
for counterpoise. The pedestal is a mass of granite, which 
was conveyed by wonderful exertions of genius and me- 
chanism several miles, notwithstanding the most formidable 



OF PARIS. 



53 



the king being twenty-two feet in height, the foot 
twenty-six inches in length, and all the other propor- 
tions of the horse as well as its rider suitable. The 
weight of the metal which was melted for this statue 
was one hundred thousand pounds, of which eighty 
thousand was employed. It was cast all at once both 
for the king and the horse. M. Girardon, the sta- 
tuary, told me that although he worked at the model 



obstacles. After the superfluous parts were broken off by 
explosion, it was twenty-one feet high, twenty-one broad, 
thirty-eight long, and was computed to weigh three millions 
and two hundred thousand pounds. — Tooke's Russia, v. 1. 
p. 449. 

How insignificant do these exertions of modern art appear 
when contrasted with the stupendous project of Dinocrates, 
who offered to convert Mount Athos, which was 150 miles 
in circumference, and so high that it overshadowed Lemnos 
which was eighty-seven miles off, into a statue of Alexander 
the Great ! In the right hand of this inconceivable figure, u 
basin was to be held, capable of containing all the water 
that descended from the mountain ; in the left a town with 
10,000 inhabitants. That the plan was capable of execution 
appears from the nature of Alexander's objection to it, which 
was the want of sustenance for so many persons. Yet he 
greatly admired the design. Extravagant as this project 
was, Mr. Pope suggested the following expedient for carry- 
ing it into execution : The figure must be in a reclining 
posture, to take away the necessity of the hollowing, and to 
allow of the city being held in one hand. The hill should 
be rude and unequal, and might be assisted with groves of 
trees for the eye-brows, and a wood for the hair. The na- 
tural green turf should be left, wherever it should be neces- 
sary, to represent the ground he reclines on. It should be 
so contrived, that the true point of view T should be at a con- 
siderable distance, at which one rising should be a leg ? 



AN ACCOUNT 



daily and with great diligence, yet that he was en- 
gaged at it for the space of eight years ; and that two 
more years were consumed in the moulding, in making 
the furnaces, and in casting the metal. 

In this statue the king is arrayed in the habit of a 
Roman Emperor, and sits the horse without either 
stirrups or a saddle. But to confuse the whole, the 
head is covered with a large French periwig a-la- 
mode. I am quite w at a loss to conjecture, upon what 
principles or precedent this confusion of costume is to 
be justified. It is very true that in building, it is com- 
mendable to follow with precision the ancient manner 
and simplicity, because the different orders were 
founded upon just principles in the mathematics ; but 
the cloathing of an emperor was arbitrary. For Louis 
le Grand to appear at the head of his army, dressed 
as he is in this statue, would be thought strangely 
ludicrous. It seems as if the people of the present 
time are ashamed of the stile of their dress, yet no 
one will venture to affirm that the equestrian statues 



another an arm. The lake should rather be at the bottom 
of the figure than at one side. — Spence's Anec. p. 208. 

Having dwelt too long on these efforts of art which are 
chiefly remarkable for their bulk, I will take leave to pro- 
long this note, for the sake of mentioning [one, by way of 
contrast, at once remarkable for its minuteness and elegance. 
Theodorus, who is the first statuary on record, made a cast 
of himself in brass, which was a perfect likeness. In his 
right hand he held a file ; in his left a carriage with four 
horses ; the carriage, horses and driver were so minute, that 
the whole was covered by the wings of a fly. Beloe's 
Herod: Clio, p. 51. 



OP PARIS. 



55 



of Henry IV. and Lewis XIII. W are the less to be 
valued for being arrayed in the true dress of their 
times. 

I remember being at a levee of King Charles the 
second, when three models were brought to him, one 
of which was to be fixed upon for his statue designed 
for the court at Windsor, and for another statue about 
to be erected in the old Exchange at London. He 
chose the dress of a Roman Emperor ; and the statue 
of king James at Chelsea College is habited in a 
similar manner. 

Now I may securely appeal to all mankind, and 
ask, whether in representing a living prince of the 
present time, uncloathed legs and arms are even de- 
cent, and whether there is not a want of refinement 
in it that is very disgusting? Charles the first, 



w The classical reader will not be displeased to see the 
following elegant epigram on this statue inserted here. The 
author of it is not known. 

In Statuam equestrem Ludovici xiij. positam Parisiis in circo 
regali. 

Quod bellator hydros pacem spirare rebelles, 
Deplumes trepidare aquilas, mitescere pardos, 
Et depressa jugo submittere colla leones 
Despectat Lodoicus equo sublimis aheno, 
Non digiti, non artifices finxere camini, 
Sed virtus, et plena Deo fortuna peregit : 
Armandus fidei vindex pacisque sequester, 
Augustum curavit opus, populisque verendara 
Regali voluit statuam consurgere circo; 
Ut post civilis depulsa pericula belli, 
Et circum domitos armis felicibus hostes, 
iEtemum domina Lodoicus in urbe triumphet. 



56 



AN ACCOUNT 



the father of these two kings, had the best taste of 
any prince of this age ; he had also a sound judg- 
ment, particularly in painting and sculpture, and civil 
and naval architecture. Of this he furnished proofs, 
in the favour and munificence of which Rubens, and 
his disciple Vandyke were the objects ; and in the 
£reat esteem which he had for the incomparable Inigo 
J ones, who was the first Englishman of the age that 
understood building. I heard M. Auzout the archi- 
tect say, that the Ranqueting-house at Whitehall 
was superior to any building on this side of the Alps ; 
and as he had diligently studied Vitruvius for more 
than forty years, and chiefly at Rome, his testimony 
must be entitled to credit. The ship also called the 
Sovereign, which was truly the noblest floating castle 
that ever swam the sea, was a striking proof of the 
skill and judgment of Charles in naval architecture. 
Yet after having given all these proofs of the superi- 
ority of his taste and judgment, this king caused an 
equestrian statue of himself, which is still at Charing 
Cross, and which may vie with the best that are to be 
seen at Paris, to be arrayed in the full habit of his 
own time. 

Before I proceed to speak of the palaces, and of the 
men of literature and conversation, I will just remark 
the vast expence which is incurred here in iron balus- 
trades, as in the Place Royale, which is inclosed with 
a railing ten feet high. There is a vast variety of 
this sort of railing in Paris, which while it prevents 
intrusion, affords a full view of the gardens, &c. that 
are inclosed by it. 



CHAP. III. 



OF THE PALACES AND OTHER PUBLIC EUILDINGS,, 
AND THE CURIOSITIES OF NATURE AND ART 
WHICH ARE IN THEM. 



IN the Palais Mazarin there are many good pic- 
tures, but that of which I took the greatest notice, 
was a very large collection of Grecian and Roman 
statues, which were ranged in a gallery by themselves. 
Most of them were brought from Home by theCardinal. 
Those which are togatae and cloathed, are as they were 
found ; but such as were nudag when they were carved, 
are miserably disguised by the affectation of the Car- 
dinal, who in a sudden transport of devotion, caused 
them to be first mutilated and mangled, and then had 
themfrocked by some sad bungler, and with a wretched 
plaster of Paris, so that they appear quite ridiculous. 
I cannot but remark that the Cardinal should either 
have furnished his cabinet and gallery with the to- 
gat a?, or statues having drapery, only ; or if he 
chose to admit those which were nudae, or without 
drapery, he should not have cloathed them. The 
method which he adopted was at best but a vain 
ostentation of his purity, while it betrayed a sad per- 



58 



AN ACCOUNT 



version, or total want of taste for the noble art of 
sculpture, for the display of which alone these statues 
are valuable. 

Cicero informs us, that some of the ancient sages 
were of opinion, that there was nothing natural- 
ly indelicate, but that every thing might be called 
by its own proper name : but our Celsus a thought 
otherwise, and asked pardon, being a Roman, for de- 
scribing several maladies in the vernacular tongue b . 

By these and many other elegant statues which I 
saw at Versailles, and which were taken from the 
Palais Mazarin, it was evident that the Roman cloath- 
ing was the most simple imaginable, and that a Roman 
was undressed in as short a time as is taken up by us 
in drawing off our gloves, or taking off our shoes. 
The cloathing of both sexes was very much alike. 
As for the fashion of the Roman habit, it is evident 
by these ancient statues, which Octavian Ferrari has 
judiciously followed in his explanations of the gar- 
ments of the ancients, that the tunica, or shirt, was 
without collar or sleeves, and girt high up under the 
breasts. Also that the toga or gown was a long and 
wide garment open at both ends, let down over the 
head, and supported by the left hand thrust under the 
skirts of it, while the top of it rested on the left 



a Celsus, the physician. 
* Apud Graecos vocabula, et tolerabilius se habent, et 
accepta jam usu sunt ; cum in omni fere medicorum Yolumine 
atque sermone, jactentur : apud nos fasdiora verba, ne con- 
suetudine quidem aliqua verecundius loquentium commen- 
data sunt." L. vi. cap. xviii. 



OF PARIS. 



59 



shoulder. The right hand and arm were naked and 
above the gown, and the gown itself was ungirt, and 
hung loose. So that when a Roman undressed him- 
self for the bath, which he daily did before eating, he 
had only to draw up his left hand, and the gown fell 
at his feet ; and at the same time to loosen the girdle 
of the tunica, drawing up both his arms from under it ? 
and that also fell at his feet. In the first ages of the 
commonwealth the toga only was worn ; afterwards 
the tunica was added, but no further addition was 
made to the dress in the fullest splendour and luxury 
of the empire. Every other article of cloathing has 
been invented since. 

I was much surprised that, among the vast number 
of ancient statues which I saw at Paris, I met with 
none but such as were cloathed with a toga pura, and 
that no example of a bullated or studded one oc- 
curred. The toga and tunica were both of white 
flannel without linen. This flannel is shewn to have 
been very fine, by the smallness of the folds, and the 
facility with which it falls into them. It seems also 
to be very light, by its being raised by the finger and 
thumb only, as is the air of some of the statues ; and 
by the whole garment being suspended from the 
shoulder; and also by the form and proportions of 
the frame being visible through it. 

This practice of wearing woollen dresses only in a 
hot climate, brought on the use, and indeed necessity 
of frequent bathing, without which cleanliness could 
not have been preserved ; at the same time, the fre- 
quency of bathing confined them to the use of this 
loose kind of dress. It is certain^ however, that 



60 



AN ACCOUNT 



neatness, cleanliness and health would have been more 
readily attained by the use of linen than by the bath, 
which would have greatly enfeebled the constitution, 
and rendered the skin wrinkled and intolerably ten- 
der, if they had not protected it by the use of oils and 
perfumes. By similar means, the Indians and Afri- 
cans at this time secure their skins from the effects of 
heat and cold, and from other injuries of the weather, 
to which, from their disuse of cloathing, they are 
exposed. 

But the best rule of health, and the surest guide to 
longevity, is to do but little to ourselves ; people in 
general are not aware of the inconveniencies which 
they incur from the use of articles, which they regard 
as innocent, because they are accustomed to them. 
But to return from this digression. 

There was in this collection, one little statue of 
which I took more particular notice on account of 
the elegance of the sculpture, and the fancy of the 
drapery. It was the figure of a Sibyl, and was 
placed on a table. The face of the old woman was 
cut very deep into the stone within the coiffure, which 
looked like a hood drawn over the forehead ; a very 
exact emblem of an oracle, which is hidden, dark, and 
ambiguous ; like the woman herself, who would nei- 
ther have her words understood, nor her face seen, as 
if she were ashamed of her deception. 

In what did the fancy of men of the earliest ages 
originate, which led them to make old women pro- 
phetesses, uttering oracles, and interpreting the will 
of the gods ? To have made them sagae and veneficse 
was reasonable enough, because old age disposes all 



OF PARIS. 



61 



people to be spiteful, but particularly the weaker 
sex c . To poison and to bewitch are the secret re- 
venges of impotent people. 

The Jews were impatient of the company of women 
in their religious rites, lest they should contaminate 
and spoil their devotion. The Romans on the con- 
trary, thought that religion became women better than 
men ; for, in addition to the general duties which they 
had in common with men in the adoration of the 
gods, they had peculiar duties, in which men were not 
concerned. Cicero bids his wife supplicate the gods 
for him ; he tells her that he thinks they will be kinder 
to her than to him. It is not improbable, that the 
prophetesses among the Romans, were in esteem upon 
some such principle. 

The next place which I saw was the Apartment of 
M.Viviers in the Arsenal. It consists of seven or eight 
rooms on the ground floor, which look into the great 
garden. The rooms are small, but most curiously 
furnished with the greatest variety, and best sorted 
china that I ever saw ; besides pagods, Chinese paint- 



miiiuti 

Semper et infirmi est animi exiguique voluptas 
Ultio. Continue- sic collige, quod vindicta 
Nemo magis gaudet, quam fcemina. 

Juven : Sat. xiii. v. 190. 
■ Revenge, which still we find, 

The weakest frailty of a feeble mind. 
Degenerous passion, and for man too base, 
It seats its empire in the female race : 
There rages ; and to make its blow secure, 
Puts flatt'ry on, until the aim be sure.— Creech. 



6£ 



AN ACCOUNT 



ings, most elegant bureaus, bookcases, and pictures 
of the first masters. Among- the pictures, those which 
chiefly pleased me were three by the incomparable 
Dutch artist Rembrandt. The subject of one was a 
girl with a cage in her hand, looking up earnestly 
after the bird, which had escaped from the cage and 
was flying away over her head. Amazement, terror, 
and regret were admirably expressed in her coun- 
tenance. The second represented an unlucky lad 
leaning upon a table ; his eyes teemed with mischief, 
and he seemed to be watching for an opportunity to 
do some unhappy turn. In a third, which was after 
the wonted manner of this artist, a young gentleman 
is portrayed en deshabille. The two first are the most 
natural for expression and drapery that can be ima- 
gined, but nothing surely ever came near his colouring 
of flesh and dresses. This important part of his art 
he passionately studied throughout his life, and was 
perpetually making experiments relative to it. With 
what perfect success is shewn by these and many other 
of his performances d . These three paintings are all of 



d It has lately been considered extremely probable, that, 
at least, this great master in the art of painting was accus- 
tomed to rub in the colours with his fingers iu a dry state. 
This,very important fact has been developed in a publication, 
the title of which I have unfortunately forgot. In richness 
and truth of colouring, in copiousness of invention and 
energy of expression, Rembrandt equalled the greatest of his 
predecessors; and whatever he attempted, he rendered with 
a degree of truth, of reality, of illusion, that defies all com- 
parison. By these powers he seemed independent of his 
subject; it mattered not what he painted, his pencil, like the 



OF PARIS. 



63 



young people, and are so exquisitely finished with all 
the art and perfection of colouring, that they are as 
smooth as any limning. I had the pleasure of seeing 
them again and again. I will only add that the re- 
flections which were cast upon Rubens by Philbien^- 
that he coloured all objects alike — were unjust, for he 
certainly adapted his paint to the ages and characters 
of his subjects. 

I next visited the rooms in which M. le Notre 
keeps his curiosities, and which were extremely well 
worthy of being seen. He is a very ingenious old 
gentleman, and eighty-nine years of age, but remark- 
ably quick and lively. He entertained me with the 
greatest civility. He is the controller of the king's 
gardens which adjoin the Tuilleries. The arrange- 
ment and design of most of the royal, and other large 
gardens in and about Paris, are of his invention, and 
he has lived long enough to see them arrive at per- 
fection. 

In the three apartments into which his cabinet is 
divided, the uppermost of which is an octagon with a 
dome, there was a large collection of choice pictures ; 



finger of Midas, turned every thing it touched into gold. It 
made defects agreeable, and gave importance to trifles. Of 
this artist a humorous story is related finding his works 
accumulate upon his hands, he attempted to make a sale of 
them, but failed, in consequence of the prejudice which his 
countrymen had against living authors. He therefore se- 
creted himself, pretending to be dead, and put his wife into 
mourning, and ordered a mock funeral. After this his sale 
went on with uncommon success. 



64 



an account 



and another of engravings, which were superbly bound. 
From among these he had lately selected the choicest, 
and presented them to the king at Versailles. These 
he valued at 50,000 crowns. There were also very 
beautiful pieces of porcelain, some of which were jars 
of a most extraordinary magnitude, some antique 
Roman heads, and busts and entire statues. But in 
the whole of his cabinet, although he was so great a 
lover of nature, there was nothing relative to natural 
history. 

Upon one occasion he took me to an upper room, 
where he had a considerable collection of medals, 
mostly modern, and which were divided into four 
cabinets. Among these there were four large drawers, 
three of which contained nearly three hundred medals 
of King William. Those in the fourth were of that 
king's ancestors and family. In making this collection 
he had spent forty years, and had purchased many of 
the medals at a vast price. He has certainly the most 
copious materials for an historia metallica that I ever 
saw. 

The king has a particular kindness for M. le Notre, 
and has greatly enriched him ; no one talks with more 
freedom to his majesty, who is much delighted with 
his humour, and sits and inspects his medals. If any 
medal is met with that reflects upon the king, he will 
say to him, " Sire, voila une qu' est bien contre 
nous 6 ; as though the subject pleased him, and he 
was glad to shew it to his master. 



" Here is one, Sire 3 that is quite against us ! 



OF PARIS. 



65 



M. la Notre spoke much in praise of the king's 
temper, and affirmed that he never fell into a passion ; 
in proof of which he mentioned many instances which 
would have caused most men to be in a rage, which 
he passed over with all the forbearance imaginable. 

In this collection I saw many very rare old china 
vessels, and among them a small glass Roman urn ; it 
was of a blue colour, very thick and ponderous, and 
had two ears terminating in feet which were divided 
into four claws. The bottom of this vessel was smooth 
and scarcely umbilicate f , for which reason it is pro- 
bable that it was cast and not blown. 

Of all the royal buildings the palace of Luxemburg 
is the most highly finished, and the best designed in 
all other respects, except the trifling intersections or 
reedings of the columns, which are beneath the gran- 
deur of the order, and have too great a resemblance 
to a cheesemonger's shop ; so extremely difficult it is 
to possess a true relish for ancient simplicity, and yet 
to abstain from adding impertinent ornaments. In 
fact there are but few buildings in Paris where this 
accuracy is observed with strictness. Among those 
few are the south-east front of the Louvre, the facade 
of St. Gervais, and the whole building of the Val de 
Grace. This fondness for additional ornaments may 
perhaps be the reason why the Doric order is chiefly 
practised here at present ; the metopae, or shoulder 
pieces, naturally admitting a greater variety, and 
agreeing with the intended use of the building. 



f From the Latin umbilicatus. 
£ 



AN ACCOUNT 



In this palace is the famous gallery where the his- 
tory of Mary of Medicis is painted by Rubens. Though 
this was executed seventy years ago, it is as fresh as 
it was at first, so great a master was he in the art of 
colouring. His flesh is admirable and also his scarlet, 
for which he is thought to have had a secret, now 
unknown. 

It is certain that the goodness of colours was one 
of the great cares and studies of the late famous 
masters of the art of painting, and that which seems 
most to have obliged them to pay this attention was 
the necessity which they felt and imposed upon them- 
selves to paint all their own designs, and more parti- 
cularly the drapery. And although, in the history 
which I am now speaking of, Rubens is in this respect 
too great a libertine, yet in the habit of his principal 
figures there is much truth, as in that of Henry IV. 
the queen, her son and three daughters, and the car- 
dinal. It must however be observed, that the alle- 
gorical assistants in all the tableaux are described in 
a very airy and fanciful manner g . 

Sir Antony Vandyke, who was the pupil of Rubens, 



s On this subject it is the remark of an acute and very 
judicious writer, that " the history of Mary de Medicis, in 
the palace of Luxemburg, painted by Rubens, is in a vicious 
taste, by a perpetual jumble of real and allegorical personages, 
which produces a discordance of parts, and an obscurity upon 
the whole ; witness, in particular, the tablature representing 
her arrival at Marseilles, in which, mixed with the real per- 
sonages, the nereids and tritons appear sounding their shells. 
Such a mixture of fiction and reality in the same group, is? 
strangely absurd." — Kaims's Elem. of Crit. viii. 130 



OF PARIS. 



67 



introduced, and made too much use of this novelty 
in England, when individuals would permit him, as 
females were very willing to do. Indeed the ladies 
during his time seem to have been very fond of being 
painted en deshabille. It was this innovation that 
threw out of employment Cornelius Johnson, who 
was the best painter of his time, and shortened his 
existence by distress of mind. 

It is certain that in the progress of time every cos- 
tume becomes deshabille, yet, is it not better, I would 
ask, and much more pleasing, to see the painting of a 
deceased friend, or relative, or person of distinction, 
arrayed in drapery suitable to the fashion of his time, 
than in a foppish night-gown, and an odd head-dress, 
to which the person described never was accustomed. 

But that which led me into these reflections was, 
that by employing others to paint the drapery, modern 
artists are encouraged to be indolent. It is quite 
enough for them, they think, to paint the faces of their 
pictures, and to send them to be dressed by meaner 
hands. But if it were incumbent on them in point of 
honour and character to paint the drapery themselves, 
they would, in consequence of the variety which would 
perpetually occur, become more accurate in colouring, 
and exalt their profession into far greater esteem. 
An artist of established credit might easily effect this 
important change, and may find his own account in it 
by obliging the persons he paints to remunerate him 
for his trouble and time. It is certainly the lot of 
only a few favoured individuals to arrive at excellence 
in this noble art. 

In the antichamber of the queen's apartments there 



GS 



AN ACCOUNT 



are other paintings by Rubens. At the upper end of 
it the ceremonies of the marriages of her three daugh- 
ters to Savoy, Spain and England are exhibited in 
three distinct tableaux. In another historical tableau 
he has painted himself in a very free and easy manner, 
looking upon the three ladies, as if he were a mere 
spectator of his own performance. In some of the 
tableaux in the great gallery he has introduced the 
portrait of his wife ; but in the last of them, in which 
the queen is represented ascending to heaven, she is 
exhibited going up after her, but in a very unwilling 
posture and hanging back. Whether this attitude is 
to be attributed to the reluctance of her mind, or to 
her full and heavy body, is doubtful, but the impres- 
sion made upon the spectator is, that the artist was 
too fond of the company of his wife to part with 
her, and that she also was unwilling to quit her 
husband. 

Several of the rooms of these apartments, but par- 
ticularly the oratory and the dressing-room, were 
wainscotted with cedar carved in flowers, which is 
very rare in Paris. The floors were made of small 
pieces of wood arrayed so as to form figures ; the in- 
ward knot* were inlayed with threads of silver, which 
have a surprising effect. But I w as more particularly 
pleased with the very perfect state, and the firmness 
and durability of these floors, after having been laid 
down so long a time. In London, and even in some 
houses in Paris, they prove so very noisy when trod- 
den on, and are so faulty, as in a few years to become 
quite intolerable. 

It is much to be regretted that the king has so 



OF PARIS. 



69 



great an aversion to the Louvre 11 , which, if it were 
finished, as in two or three years it might easily be, 
would perhaps be the most magnificent palace that 
ever was upon the face of the earth ; and indeed 
unless this be done, Paris will never arrive at its full 
beauty. 

In the fronton or pediment of the south-east facade 
of the Louvre, are two flat stones, which are shewn 
to all strangers as great natural curiosities. They 
cover the very summit of it, like slates, and meet 
in an angle. They are very large, each being fifty- 
four feet in length, eight in breadth, and only four- 
teen inches in thickness. It was considered as a 
master-piece of art, and equal to any performance of 
this kind by the ancients, to raise to such a height 
stones so large and so brittle. They were taken from 
the quarries of Meudon, which is the residence of 
Monseigneur the Dauphin. 

In the galleries of the Louvre are Le Brun's pic- 
tures of some of the battles of Alexander, of which 
the French are not a little proud, affirming them to 
be the most admirable pieces of painting that were 



h When this palace was first founded it was designed to 
be the most magnificent of any in the metropolis. On one 
of its gates was the inscription : 

Dum totum impleat orbem ; 
May this structure last until the master of it shall 9ubdue 
the universe ! 

A candid acknowledgement of the thirst after universal 
dominion, for which the kings of France have been so much 
censured, and in the gratification of which so much of the 
blood, the treasure and the repose of Europe was sacrificed. 



70 



AN ACCOUNT 



ever executed on this side of the Alps. There was 
also a large piece of Paul Veronese, which was pre* 
sented to the king by the Senate of Venice. In one 
of the galleries are several glass vases, in which are 
arranged the puppets, or play-things of the Dauphin 
when he was young. 1 They represent a camp in all 
its parts, and cost fifty thousand crowns. Nor can 1 
pass by unnoticed the Antellier, or workshop of M. 
Girardon, who designed and executed the tomb of 
Cardinal Richlieu ; it is without exception the most 
astonishing object in the Louvre. 

There are two rooms in this palace which contain 
a most extensive collection of antique marble and 
brazen statues, vases, and various other articles of 
great antiquity. There is nothing in all Paris which 
is more worthy of being seen. Among the statues I 
observed an Egyptian Janus, with a Silenus on one 
side of it, and on the other a Bacchus. There were 
also very many other Egyptian figures of good design^ 
all of which had a hole in the crown of the head. 
There was one brazen figure of an Egyptian lion, of 
a very great size, the design of which was rude, and 
not unlike an Indian pagod. This also had a large 
square hole in the back, near the neck. The Siamites 5 
who came to Paris on an embassy \ expressed much 



1 This was in the year 1668. The same ambassadors went 
to Rome on an embassy to Pope Innocent, who, with a view 
to preserve the memory of so important an event, caused a 
medal to be struck representing the Pope on his throne, re- 
ceiving the king of Siam's letter from a Jesuit, accompanied 
by three natiYes of Siam, lying prostrate at the feet of hi» 



OF PARIS. 



71 



pleasure at the sight of this figure, and said that it 
was not unlike one of their own. Respecting the 
hole, they said that it served to receive the incense, in 
order that smoak might issue from the body and nos- 
trils of the animal, I have no doubt but that the 
open crowns of the other Egyptian figures were de- 
signed for a similar use, and that the cavities served 
for perfuming pots. It is no improbable conjecture 
that from the effect produced by this contrivance, might 
have arisen the ornament of radiated heads. In the 
figure of which I am now speaking, if fire were to be 
placed in the hole near the neck, rays would issue out 
of, and play round the head. 

There was also a small cast of a lean man, sitting 
in a bent posture, and looking down upon a roll of 
parchment that was spread open upon his knees, and 
which he seemed to be in the act of reading. This 
image was of solid brass, it was found inclosed in a 
mummy, and seemed to have on a thin linen garment, 
such perhaps as the Egyptian priests were accustomed 
to wear. 

M. Girardon shewed us the entire mummy of a 
woman. The scent of the hand was not disagreeable 
to me, but it resembled no perfume now in use. I 
have no doubt but that naptha was the great in- 
gredient. Of this article the smell is so unusual, that 
many persons ignorant of natural history have been 
deceived by the smell of the Hogsden water, in which 



holiness. The inscription is, Venite, et Videte Opera 
Domini — Come, and behold the works of the Lord. 

Numism. Pontif. Rom. par le Pere Bonani, v. % 



72 



AN ACCOUNT 



true naptha is substantially present, and I have in my 
possession several ounces of it, which I collected from 
the surface of that water. It seems to the smell to be 
a slight impregnation of turpentine. 

In this collection there was also a great variety of 
urns and funeral vases, of all kinds of composition and 
fashion ; an antique writing pen coiled up, with both 
ends raised equally, representing the head of a snake ; 
and numerous heads and busts of brass of great anti- 
quity and value. 

M. Girardon is extremely courteous to all strangers, 
and especially to such as have any taste for curiosities 
of this kind ; to them he gladly exhibits his collection. 
He is an excellent artist, and of the most exact taste. 
Indeed it cannot be otherwise, than that a man edu- 
cated in the noble art of sculpture, and daily study- 
ing so great a variety of original productions of the 
greatest masters, must far surpass the rest of mankind, 
whose taste is not formed upon such models. 

From M. Boudelot, on whose friendship I set the 
highest value, I received great civilities. He is well 
known by his publications on the utility of voyages. 
He has a collection at once choice and extensive of 
Greek and Roman books. I paid him several visits, 
and had the pleasure of inspecting his cabinet of coins, 
and small images of copper, which are numerous and 
of great value. They are Egyptian, Phrygian, Gre- 
cian and Roman. Among the Egyptian coins, the 
most curious was a Deus Crepitus of admirable work- 
manship, with a radiated crown. It was an Ethiopian, 
and therefore of great antiquity ; it was the practice 
of the people of that country to represent their kings,, 
under the figures of their gods. 



OF PARIS. 



73 



There were also in solid copper, a female skeleton, 
in a sitting* posture, similar to that which has been 
described in M. Girardon's collection, and like it, 
found in the body of a mummy; an Apis, or heifer, in 
copper, and a Phrygian Priapus of elegant work- 
manship : the Phrygian cap pointed and hanging" 
down behind, as our caps are worn en deshabille. 
Upon the subject of these and many other curiosities 
this learned antiquarian intends soon to publish. 

I could find no medal of Palmyra in M. Boudelct's 
cabinet, although I made very particular inquiry, as I 
was willing to add whatever could be learned upon 
this subject in France, to what is already known in 
England. He has many marbles from Greece, most 
of which have been published by Spon ; there is one, 
however, and that the most ancient and curious of 
them ail, concerning which he is about to publish a 
dissertation. It is inscribed with a catalogue in three 
columns of the names of the most considerable persons 
of Erectheis, (one of the chief tribes of Attica,) that 
were killed in the same year, but in five different 
places, where the Athenians fought under two gene- 
rals, viz. in Cyprus, Egypt, Phoenicia, iEgina, and 
Halies. In the three columns are 177 names. 

In this cabinet I also saw some bass-reliefs, one of 
Praxiteles, which was well designed, another ofMusos, 
the comedian : a third, which was very prominent and 
highly finished, of a Cupid asleep, his head resting on 
his left arm. In his hand he holds two poppy-heads, 
which, from the peculiar properties of that plant, 
were probably introduced as emblematic of his art. 
There was also an antique bust of Zenobia, in marble, 



7A 



AN ACCOUNT 



with a radiated crown ; it was brought by M. Theve- 
not from Asia. He shewed me a Dissertation which 
was ready for the press, on an ancient Intaglia of 
Ptolomaeus, k or the player on the flute. The head 
is engraved on an Amethyst, but the most remarkable 
circumstance belonging to it was a thin muffler, which 
covered the mouth and nose. 

I ventured to dissent from his opinion as to the in- 
terpretation of the inscription on a coin which M. 
Seguin calls Britannica. M. Boudelot reads the in- 
scription thus : Iovi Victori Saturnalia Io ! or Iovi 
Victoria Sat. Io ! which I would prefer reading. Io I 
Sat. Victorias Io ! That is " Enough of Victory ! Let 
us return with the spoils of the ocean ! This coin was 
struck on the occasion of Claudius's return with the 
soldiers, whose helmets were filled with the shells 
which they had collected on the sea-shore. On one 
side of the coin was a palm-branch ; on the reverse, 
a laurel crown ; both emblems of victory. 

He shewed me a calculus which had lately been 
taken from the body, perhaps the bladder of a horse, 
and which had been the cause of the animal's death. 
It weighed about two pounds, and was perfectly round 
and laminated ! . 



11 Ptolomy the twelfth, who received the surname of 
Auletes, from his skill in playing on the flute. 

1 It is not generally known that horses as well as cows, 
are subject to the formation of masses or balls of hair in 
their stomach. The friendly offices which these creatures 
perform for each other, in licking those parts of the skin 
which the individual cannot reach itself., are to be regarded 



OF PARIS. 



75 



The Observatoire Royaleis built on a rising ground, 
just without the city- walls, and is a very fine building. 
The vaulted carved roofs, and winding staircases are 
constructed with singular art. The stones are dis- 
posed both within and without, with the greatest 
regularity that I ever observed in any modern edifice. 
There is neither iron nor wood in it, but all is firmly 
covered with stone, vault upon vault. The platform 
on the top is very spacious, and affords a large and 
very favourable view of Paris and the circumjacent 



as the cause of these concretions; for the hair thus detached, 
being indigestible, and swallowed in masses too large to pass 
the pylorus, is, by the action of the stomach matted together, 
forming balls of various sizes. By long residence in the sto- 
mach, the secretions of that organ deposit themselves on 
these concretions, and give them an uniform, smooth, and 
polished appearance, totally dissimilar to the colour or struc- 
ture of the hair. 

It w r ould be natural to suppose that the digestive process^ 
and ultimately the health of the animal would be impaired 
by the presence of these extraneous bodies. 

I once had one of these concretions ; it was almost per- 
fectly- round, quite smooth, and polished. Its levity sug- 
gested to me the probability of its being hair, and upon 
shaving off a very small portion of its surface I discovered 
that it was so. It was found in the stomach of a horse, and 
was suspected, with great probability, to be the cause of the 
animal's death. It is now in the Museum of Mr. Anstice, of 
Bridgwater, to whom I presentpd it. 

But the concretion to ivhich Dr. Lister refers, is shewn by 
its specific gravity to have been a calculus, and was verj 
probably taken from the bladder. 



76 



AN ACCOUNT 



country.™ It is paved with black flint arranged in 
small squares. 

One room in this building was well furnished with 
models of all kinds of machines. There was also a 
burning glass n about three feet in diameter, which in 



m This building was eighty feet high, and the foundation 
was laid equally low, so that the descent of the observa- 
tory into a subterranean cave equals its elevation. From 
the bottom to the top was a circular hole or tunnel forming 
a kind of natural telescope on a very large scale. It was 
constructed of stones hewn in such a manner that no mortar 
was wanted to fix and maintain them in their positions. 

n The most remarkable burning-glasses of the ancients 
were those of Archimedes and Proclus. With these asto- 
nishing instruments the former reduced to ashes the Roman 
ships besieging Syracuse, and the latter the navy of Vitalian 
besieging Byzantium. 

Among the moderns, that of M. Villette, which was three 
feet eleven inches in diameter, and was composed of tin, 
copper, and tin-glass, was among the most eminent. It was 
capable of melting a silver sixpence in seven seconds and 
half; a halfpenny in sixteen seconds, and of making it run 
in thirty-four; and of melting tin in three seconds. That 
of M. Buffon was six feet broad and as many high, and con- 
sisted of 168 pieces of looking-glass, each six inches square. 
By means of this instrument he set board? of beech wood on 
fire at the distance of 150 feet in March; at another time he 
kindled wood 200 feet distant, and melted tin and lead at 
the distance of 120 feet, and silver at 50. 

Mr. Parker, of Fleet-street, constructed a transparent lens 
of extraordinary powers, and at a vast expence. This was 
sent to China with Lord Macartney's embassy, and is now 
at Pekin, in the hands of persons who are equally ignorant 
of its value and its use. — For a fuller account of this Instru- 
ment, see Nicholson's Encyclopedia. 



OF PARIS. 



the month of February kindled wood the very instant 
that the rays of the sun passed through the focus. 

I was indisposed and could not accept the favour 
which was offered me, of seeing the moon in their tele- 
scopes, and of going down into the vault which was 
contrived for seeing the stars at noon-tide, but un- 
successfully. 

On the floor of one of the octagon towers, an uni- 
versal map in a vast circle was designed with ink, 
with great accuracy and neatness. 

The triumphal arch beyond the gate of St. Antoine 
is well worthy of being seen. It is formed of the 
largest blocks of stone that could be got, which are 
laid without mortar, the smallest end being placed, 
after the manner of the ancients, outwards. In this 
structure the French imagine that they surpass all 
former works of architecture. At the time when I 
saw it, no more of it was built than the foundation, 
which was laid twenty-two feet deep, and raised to 
the foot of the pedestals. But the design is most 
magnificent, as is shewn by the model, which is finished 
in full beauty, and is in proportion to the work itself. 
It seems to have been intended for a gate-way or en- 
trance into the city, for it fronts the principal street 
of the suburbs, and has a vast walk planted with trees 
leading towards the Bois de Vincennes. 

The church-yard of St. Innocent's, which has been 
the public burying-place of the city of Paris for a 
thousand years, was, when it was entire, as it was 
a few years ago, and built round with double galle- 
ries filled with skulls and other bones, an awful and 



73 



AN ACCOUNT 



venerable sight ! I now found it in ruins, the largest 
of the galleries being pulled down and houses erected 
where they stood, while the collection of bones has 
totally disappeared °. The rest of the church-yard is 
in a more neglected state than any consecrated place 
which I ever beheld. 



° A scene of great interest yet less simple as being the 
work of art, as this is of nature, is thus described by the 
author of the Roman Conversations: During our residence 
at Florence, I took a walk to the Great Duke's Gallery. I 
passed through its Tribuna, without attending to the chef 
d'ceuvres of sculpture and painting which are there collected. 
I went on to the smallroom adjoining, in which there is an 
object overlooked or shunned perhaps by many dilettanti^ 
yet certainly very affecting and instructive. You must re- 
member the wax-work of Caietano Julio : it most naturally 
represents the scene of a burying-vault, in which the gradual 
progress of the dissolution of the human body is exhibited 
in several small figures. The first is swollen, the second 
discoloured and spotted, the third full of worms, the last a 
bare skeleton. Among the skulls and bones which are 
scattered on the floor, lies a torn folio volume with this 
inscription: 

Et Opera Eorum Sequuntur 

Hlos. V. 2, p 148. 

In Paris, it is the custom when the bones have accumu- 
lated to any great extent in the parish churchyards, to remove 
them to the catacombs, of which an entertaining writer of 
the present day gives the following account: 

u Armed with tapers, we descended a flight of steps to 
the depth of about a hundred feet below the surface, and 
entered one of the low passages leading to the catacombs. 
These vaults are the work of ages, having been formed by 
excavating for the stone with which Paris was built. They 



OB PARIS, 



79 



Are of prodigious extent, and there are melancholy instances 
to prove how fatally a stranger may lose himself, in the la- 
byrinth of passages into which they are divided. To prevent 
a recurrence of such accidents, the proper route is indicated 
by a black line marked upon the roof. 

After some time we arrived at a small black door, over 
which was the following inscription : 

Has ultra metas requiescant 
Beatam spem expectantes. 
This is the entrance into the cavern of death, where the con- 
tents of the various cemeteries of Paris have been deposited; 
and as the door is locked behind you, it is difficult to pre- 
vent an involuntary shudder at the thought of being shut up 
with two millions of skulls. Upon the whole it is a painful 
sight. You feel as if you were guilty of profanation, by in- 
truding upon the privacy which ought to be sacred — for the 
dead shonld not be made a spectacle to the living"— Diary 
of an Invalid. 



CHAP. IV. 



OF THE PRIVATE CABINETS OF PARIS, AND THE 
OWNERS OF THEM. 



AMONG the numerous cabinets of Paris, none 
exceeded that of M. Buco. A long gallery with a 
good library on one side, leads to two rooms which 
are splendidly decorated with paintings, vases, statues, 
and figures, in brass and china ; also the famous ena- 
melled vessels, made at the manufactory of Poitu, 
which is now no longer carried on, and a vast num- 
ber of other curiosities. 

I particularly examined his large collection of shells, 
which occupied sixty drawers. There was one large 
bivalve a ; it was a blood-red spondylus b , for which 
the late Duke of Orleans gave nine hundred livres, 
more than fifty pounds sterling. M. Buco assured me 
that the duke once offered a Parisian eleven thousand 
livres for thirty-two shells, and that his offer was re- 
fused. Upon this occasion the duke said, he knew 



ab The bivalve is one of the classes of shell-fish, the shells 
being two in number and joined by a hinge. The spondylu* 
is a genus. 



82 



AN ACCOUNT 



not which was the greatest fool, the man who bid the 
price, or he who refused it ! 

In this collection was an Hippocampus or sea horse ; 
it was four inches long, the tail square, the breast and 
belly thick, like the fish called a miller's thumb ; it 
was winged, like a sort of flying-fish, but the fins were 
spoiled ; the head long and square like the tail, the 
muzzle somewhat tufted. This fish was given to M. 
Buco, by the duchess of Portsmouth, and perhaps 
came out of the collection of king Charles, who had 
many curious presents made to him ; one, which was 
given to him by the States of Holland, was of shells, 
but he suffered them all to be dissipated and lost. 

There was also a Vespetum Canadense, or the nest 
of a Canadian wasp, of a most elegant figure and ad- 
mirable contrivance. It is entire in all its parts. It 
is as large as a melon of middle size, of the shape of 
a pear, with an edge running round where it is 
thickest, from which part it declines suddenly to a 
point. At the very end of the point is a small hole 
with smooth edges inclining inwards, in all other 
respects it is whole ; it is formed upon the twig of a 
tree. 

Nor must I omit the striped skin of an African Ass ; 
it was well tanned and supple. It is much to be re- 
gretted that so beautiful a creature cannot be ren- 
dered tractable. 

I next inspected M. Tournefort's collection of shells, 
which was extremely well chosen, very beautiful, per- 
fect, and in good order, and occupied about twenty 
drawers. Among them w as one of the Thinn oyster, 
which in the inside resembles mother of pearl, and 



OF PARIS. 



83 



near the hinge has a hole, which shuts with a peculiar 
and third shell. These he brought with him from 
the rocks in Spain, where he took them alive c . His 
collection of seeds, fruits, and plants, consists of eight 
thousand different sorts. He shewed me several 
sheets of vellum, on each of which was painted in 
water colours one single plant, most of them in flower. 
The best artist that can be found in Paris is employed 
for this purpose at the expence of the king, who for 
the painting of every plant pays two louis d'ors. 

I was engaged to wait upon M. Verney, but missing 
him, went with a young gentleman in the Ambassa- 
dor's suite to see Bernis the Anatomist. We found 
him alone in the dissecting-room, employed upon a 
subject from which the contents of the chest, &c. had 
been removed. In the room there were many very 
odd things. My companion was strangely surprized 
and offended, for it was morning, and his senses were 



e The city of Alicant forms a crescent on the sea-side, and 
that part of the shore nearest the city forms a bed of lime- 
stone mixed with sand, in which the triple hinged oyster- 
shells are found, with buccmae, molae, tallinae and ursini, 
half petrified ; the shells often preserving part of their natu- 
ral varnish, and the oyster-shells their scales, by which the 
commencement of their petrifaction may be perceived. 

44 The oyster-shells between MurciaandMula are distinct 
from those of Alicant, having only one hinge. They are 
about eight inches long and five broad. This opens a field 
of speculation for naturalists, w ith respect to these various 

petrifactions and their period of antiquity."— Dillon's. 

Travels through Spain, ed. 2, p. 360-1, 

f2 



84r 



A If ACCOUNT 



very acute and vigorous, and he retired down the 
stairs much faster than he came up. 

But no visit pleased me more than that which I 
paid to Father Plumier, whom I found in his cell at 
the Minimes. He had brought from abroad several 
folios of designs and paintings of plants, birds, fishes, 
and insects of the West Indies, and of plants of Ame- 
rica. There were but few shells ; among them was 
a murex, which, as it struggles with its opponent, stains 
the water with a purple dye ; and a buccinum, which 
lays eggs with hard shells, which are quite as large 
as those of a sparrow, and not unlike them in shape 
and colour. 

I visited M. Dacier and his lady, who are both very 
worthy and obliging persons, and profoundly learned. 
To him the medical profession is greatly indebted for 
his elegant translation of Hippocrates, and his notes. 
Of Madame Dacier I must say, that her great learning 
did not at all lessen the gentility of her manner in 
conversation, nor in the smallest degree affect her 
discourse, which was at once easy, modest, and un- 
assuming. 

M. Morin, of the Academic des Sciences, who is 
very curious in minerals, shewed me some jaspers, 
onyxes, agates, and loadstones, from Siam ; specimens 
of tin ore from Alsace ; and a large block of a kind of 
amethyst, which was found in some part of France, 
and which weighed several hundred pounds. Of this 
some parts were very fine, and had large spots and 
veins of a deep violet colour. It reminded me of 
a vast amethyst, which was brought to London from 
New Spain, and weighed eleven pounds some ounces. 



OF PARIS. 



85 4 



The members of this academy are from twelve to 
sixteen in number, and are all in some way or other 
pensioned by the king. During the war they endea- 
voured to publish their transactions monthly, in imi- 
tation of the Royal Society of London, the register of 
which is the best that ever was dev ised. I heard Mr. 
Oldenberg who began it, say, that he corresponded 
with seventy different persons. I asked him how he 
contrived to answer so many letters weekly, knowing 
him to be very punctual ? He replied, that he made 
one letter answer another, and that he never read a 
letter without having pen, ink and paper ready to 
write the answer. By these means he prevented his 
letters from accumulating, and himself from being fa- 
tigued by having many answers to write at the same 
time. The members of the French Academy have 
this great encouragement given to them in the pursuit 
of natural philosophy, that if any one of them shall send 
in a bill of expences incurred by him in prosecuting 
any experiments, or apply to have a book printed, 
or drawings engraved, the cost is defrayed by the 
king. This was the case with regard to Dr. Tourne- 
fort's Elemens de Botanique, the engravings of which 
cost the king twelve thousand livres. 

Mr. Butterfield, who is a right hearty honest En- 
glishman, and has resided in Paris for thirty-five years, 
is an excellent mathematical instrument maker; he 
works for the king and all the princes, and his instru- 
ments are in great request all over Europe and Asia. 
His collection of load stones is worth several hun- 
dred pounds ; some of them are as hard as steel, others 
soft and friable, yet of these last the virtue was equal 



36 



AN ACCOUNT 



to the former; of the former the powers were very 
various. One, which unshod weighed less than a dram, 
would attract and suspend a dram and half; but when 
shod would, if rightly applied, attract one hundred 
and forty-four drams of iron. Of three that were shod 
the powers were as follow : one weighing an ounce 
and a half, takes up a pound ;- another weigh frig one 
dram, two scruples, fourteen grains, attracts eighteen 
ounces, or eighty-two times its own weight; another 
weighing sixty-five grains, attracts fourteen ounces, 
that is one hundred and forty times its own weight. 
He entertained us full two hours with well contrived 
experiments to exhibit the properties of the load- 
stone ; that of its approach to the balance wheel of a 
watch was very fine ; at first it causes the balance to 
move with great rapidity ; but upon its nearer ap- 
proach entirely stops it. Among other experiments 
which he made, was one with a plate of iron an inch 
broad, turned into a ring about four inches in diameter, 
which evidently had two north and two south poles ; 
the same thing, he said, he had once observed in a 
loadstone, and that he had contrived this in imitation 
of nature. The double polarity was clearly mani- 
fested by the motion of steel-filings in an earthen 
plate, which was placed upon the ring. Another was 
made by suspending a needle from a thread, with the 
point of which a ball of steel was in contact, and was 
prevented from ascending nearer to the sphere of action 
of the loadstone, by a weight to which it was attached. 
Another displayed the power of the needle to act in 
water, and through brass, gold, stone, wood, or any 
medium except iron. He assured us that he had 



OF PARISe 



S7 



one loadstone, which would work through a wall 
eighteen inches in thickness. He demonstrated by 
many experiments that the effluvia of the loadstone 
move in a circle ; that is, that those which flow from 
the north pole, pass round and enter the south pole, 
and the reverse : and that in their passage, they put 
in motion whatever steel-filings they meet with: in- 
deed it is very pleasing to see how the filings are dis- 
posed, for iu their arrangement oue cannot but observe 
the perfect track of the road, which the whirling in- 
visible matter takes in issuing from, and in entering 
the poles of the load-stone. 

Mr. Butterfield shewed us a loadstone, which had 
been sawn from an iron-bar, that had kept the stones 
together at the very top of the steeple of the church 
at Chartres. It was a thick crust of rust, part of 
which was turned into a strong loadstone, and had all 
the properties of a stone recently taken from the mine. 
The most outward rust had no magnetic virtue, but 
that which was inward had so strong a power, chat 
without being shod, it would take up more than a 
third of its weight. The iron had the exact "Tain of 
a solid magnet, and the brittleness of stone. 

It is certain that all iron will in the course of time 
return to its mineral nature, notwithstanding the pre- 
caution of heating and hammering. The Spanish 
cannon, which for many years were buried under 
old fort at Hull, in Yorkshire, were thoroughly con- 
verted into brittle iron-stone or mineral again. I 
once had a piece of wood, that was taken out of 
Lough-Neagh, in Ireland, which was not only good 
iron ore, but a loadstone too. So that it is evident, 



88 AN ACCOUNT 

that in this sort of ore, nature goes backward and 
forward ; and therefore M. de la Hire has well called 
it vegetation ; that is, that iron will become ore, and 
ore loadstone. 

M. Guanieres is one of the most curious and in- 
dustrious persons in Paris. His memoirs, manuscripts, 
paintings and engravings are vastly numerous ; among 
other curious manuscripts, was a Capitulaire, or body 
of statutes divided into chapters, of Charles V. and 
the Gospel of St. Matthew in a golden letter, upon 
purple vellum. There was one toy, viz. a collection 
of playing cards for the last three hundred years ; of 
these the most ancient were thrice as large as those 
now in use ; they were thick and gilded, but no set 
was perfect. 

Among other persons of distinction and fame, I 
visited Mademoiselle de Scuderie d . She is now in 
her ninety-first year, and still vigorous in mind, though 
her body is in ruins. To survey the sad decay of 
nature in a woman once so famous, was a perfect 
mortification; and to hear her talk, with her lips 
hanging about a toothless mouth, unable to restrain 
her words from flying abroad at random, reminded 
{me of a Sybil, uttering oracular predictions. Very 
aged women were employed on this errand, and the 
infant world thought nothing so wise as nature decayed 
or^quite out of order; and preferred dreams to rea- 
sonable and waking thoughts. She shewed me the 



d Magdalene de Scuderie^ a celebrated novelist and 
poetess 3 she lived three years after this interview with the 
author. 



OF PARIS. 



80 



skeletons of two Chameleons, which she kept alive 
nearly four years ; in winter she covered them with 
cotton, and in the coldest weather she put them under 
a ball of copper, full of hot water. She also shewed 
me an original of M. de Maintenon, who was her old 
friend and acquaintance ; she affirmed that it was 
extremely like her, and indeed she must have been 
very beautiful. 

I found by the Marquis d'Hopital, who is a member 
of the Academie Royale, that the war had hindered 
the foreign correspondence of that body, and rendered 
its members perfect strangers to the progress of science 
in England. Nothing seemed more gratifying to him P 
than to hear of the advancement of Sir Isaac Newton e . 



• The advancement here referred to, was Sir Isaac 
Newton's appointment of Warden of the Mint ; this was 
in the year 1696, when Montague, the Chancellor of the Ex- 
chequer, undertook to recoin the currency of the nation. In 
the year 1698, he was returned to parliament for the Univer- 
sity of Cambridge. In the following year he was made 
Master of the Mint, an office worth from twelve to fifteen 
hundred a year, and which he held for his life. In 1705 
he received from Queen Anne the honour of knighthood. 

The Marquis d'Hopital, who was one of the first mathe- 
maticians of the age, held Newton in the highest veneration. 
66 Does Mr. Newton eat, drink, or sleep like other men ?'* 
said he to Dr. Lister; u I represent him to myself," he added, 
"as a celestial genius, entirely disengaged from matter." And 
it was to the honour of Newton, that the French Royal 
Academy departed from the regulation which makes fo- 
reigners ineligible to become members of it, expressly for 
the purpose of electing him. On the subject of Sir Isaac's 
feeding, there is an anecdote preserved of him, which is als« 



90 



AN ACCOUNT 



I suggested to him the expediency of enlarging the num- 
ber of the members of the Academy, by admitting 
other deserving men 5 and I mentioned Father Plumier 
as a proper person. He replied that they acknow- 
ledged he would be an honour to their body, but that 
they declined making a precedent for the admission 
of regulars/ 

I was informed by M. Spanheim, envoy extraordi- 
nary from Brandenburgh at Paris, who wrote on the 
use and excellence of ancient medals, that the French 
king's collection of medals, is not only by far the best 
in Europe, but that ever was made. 

M. Vaillantj s who is, I believe the best medallist in 



illustrative of his great absence of mind. A boiled fowl was 
under a cover upon the dining table for his dinner,' to which, 
being engaged in his study, he did not come. A friend call- 
ing on him, waited a long time, and at length, being hungry, 
he sat down and finished the fowl, replacing the bones and 
cover. Sir Isaac soon came, and, observing that he was tired 
and hungry, ^took off the cover, but seeing the bones only, 
he said laughingly, u I thought I had not dined, but I find 
I am mistaken." 

f In the Romish church all persons are said to be regulars, 
who profess and follow a certain rule of life, and who like- 
wise observe the three approved vows of poverty, chastity, 
and obedience. — Johnson. 

e Of whom the following strange anecdote is preserved, 
Vaillant, who wrote the history of the Syrian Kings as it is 
to be found on medals, coming from the Levant, j where he 
had been collecting various coins, and being pursued by a 
corsair of Sallee, swallowed twenty gold medals. A sud- 
den and violent storm freed him from the enemy, and he 
got safe to land with the medals in his belly. On his way 



OF PARIS. 



Europe, told me, that he had seen and described the 
contents of more cabinets than any one had done before 
him ; and that he had made twelve voyages all over 
Europe and Asia Minor, expressly for that purpose. 

M. d'Auzout, who is a celebrated mathematician, and 
very curious and skilful in architecture, having passed 
seventeen years in Italy, again expressed himself in 
very extraordinary terms of commendation concerning 
the banqueting house at Whitehall. It was, he said,, 



to Avignon, he met two physicians, of whom he demanded 
assistance. One advised purgations, the other emetics. In 
this uncertainty he took neither, but pursued his way to 
Lyons, where he found his ancient friend, the famous phy- 
sician and antiquary, Dufour, to whom he related his ad- 
venture. Dufour first asked him, whether the medals were 
of the higher empire? He assured him they were, Dufour 
was ravished with the hope of possessing so rare a treasure; 
he bargained with him on the spot for the most curious of 
them, and was to recover them at his own expence. Do 
the following lines of the Dunciad, to which the above is a 
note, refer to Dufour, under the name of Mummius? 
Speak'st thou of Syrian princes? traitor base! 
Mine, Goddess! mine, is all the horned race. 
True, he had wit, to make their value rise; 
From foolish Greeks to steal them was as wise. 
More glorious yet, from barb'rous hands to keep ? 
When Sallee rovers chac'd him on the deep. 
Then taught by Hermes, and divinely bold, 
Down his own throat he risqu'd the Grecian gold 3 
Beceiv'd each demigod with pious care, 
Deep in his entrails — I rever'd them there, 
I bought them shrouded in that living shrine, 
And, at their second birth, they issue mine. — iv. — 377. 



AN ACCOUNT 



the most regular and finished piece of modern archi- 
tecture that he had seen on this side of the Alps; add- 
ing that he could not sufficiently praise it, and that the 
architect, Inigo Jones, had a true relish of what was 
noble in the art. 



CHA2>. V. 



OF THE PUBLIC LIBRARIES, AND THE LITERATI, 
jt pgaassss - — i — jsssasgs 

LET us now leave the private houses, and visit the 
public libraries, and such individuals as are more 
particularly connected with the history of literature. 

M. l'Abbe Drouine, at the college de Boncourt, has 
several rooms well furnished with books, in one of which 
is a large collection of catalogues of books, and of such 
persons as had given any account of authors. These 
amounted to three thousand in different languages. 
He said, that for eighteen years he had studied the 
history of books with the greatest application. His 
catalogue of authors a was in four thick folio volumes, 
disposed alphabetically under family names, and which 
amounted to 150,000. He had besides, alphabetical 
memoirs of the authors and their works, and a chron- 
ological catalogue. 

The king's library is at present in a private house, 
having been removed from the Louvre ; but it is 
designed for the Palace de Vendosme, one side of that 



a The title of the book was " Index alphabeticus omnium 
tmptorum, cujusque facultatis ? teniporis et lingu©.'* 



M AN ACCOUNT 

magnificent square being destined to receive it. It is* 
now distributed into twenty- two rooms, fourteen a- 
bove, and eight below stairs. The books in the rooms 
below are on philosophical and medical subjects, and 
the cases are secured with wires. Into these rooms 
only is the promiscuous crowd admitted, and but twice 
in the week. In the middle rooms, which contain the 
great body of the library, are historical and religious 
books • Greek and Latin manuscripts ; laws of Nations ; 
papers of State and Engravings. This collection con- 
tains, at least 50,000 printed books, and 15,000 manu- 
scripts in all languages. Of this library there are two 
indexes ; one of the subjects of the books, another of 
their authors, together with the titles of such works 
as are wanting. It is a vast collection, and worthy 
of so great a prince. 

Among other rare manuscripts was one in Greek of 
Dioscorides, with the plants painted in water-colours ; 
unfortunately the first book was wanting, so that there 
was no description of animals. In the same room were 
the Epistles, which is a portion of the manuscript that is 
at Cambridge, and which has the Gospels only. There 
was another manuscript of St. Matthew's Gospel 
lately discovered, in which there are some very noto- 
rious interpolations ; one in particular, about the sick 
man going into the pool of Bethesda. There were 
also the Chinese manuscripts, which were brought 
during this year, by Father b Bouvet, as a present to 



11 This father, who was a missionary in China, was sent to 
Europe by the Emperor, to procure other missionaries and 
artists. He arrived at Paris in the year 1698, when Dr* 



OF PARIS. 



the king ; they consist of forty-four parcels of small 
books, put up in loose covers of purple satin, glued 
on pasteboard. They treat of natural history, and 
explain the Chinese characters. 

Besides books, there were other curiosities, such as 



Lister was there. Among other persons who accompanied 
him, was Girardini the painter; who, at his return, pub- 
lished a " Relation du Voyage fait a la Chine," in which he 
shews the remarkable esteem which the Emperor had for F. 
Bouvet, and the respect that was paid to him. Whenever 
he went out, he was attended by a retinue as envoy of the 
emperor. Musicians preceded him, and they were followed 
by criers and officers, some of whom carried chains, and 
others whips. Others bore gilded plates, inscribed with the 
words in large characters, Kingt Chai, i. e. Envoy from 
the Court. Others gilded dragons on square batoons. Next 
came those who carried the Palanquin. Several walked on 
each side of the chair, one carried an umbrella of yellow 
silk, another a large fan, which were only for ornament, as 
the chair was closed. These honours were very troublesome 
to him, but there was no remedy except patience. 

The Emperor was in Tartary when he heard of the 
Father's return, at which he expressed great joy, and sent 
two Jesuits, and a Tartar Mandarin, to congratulate him. 
F. Bouvet went to receive them on the bank of the river, 
and falling on his knees, according to custom, he enquired 
for the health of the Emperor, and the prince his heir; 
the three envoys answered, that they were both well, and 
that the emperor had directed them to accompany him to 
Pekin, Upon which, M. Bouvet rose up, and turning him- 
self towards the north, thanked the emperor, fell on his 
knees thrice, and nine times bowed with his forehead to the 
very earth. The general of the army performed the same 
eeremony afterwards^ in the name of the province. 



m 



AW ACCOUNT 



a considerable number of Roman and Egyptian anti- 
quities ; among which, were lamps, pateras, and other 
vessels belonging to the sacrifices ; a sistrum, c with 
three loose and running wires across it ; a great variety 
of Egyptian idols, one of which was of black touch- 
stone, two or three feet long, with hieroglyphics on 
its front. 

I was shewn the very magnificent apartment of M. 
Huygens d , who fell into an incurable melancholy. 
The first symptom of his malady was his neglecting 
his studies, and passing away his time in playing with 
a tame sparrow. It is certain that health of body and 
mind, and even life itself, are only to be preserved by 
relaxation, and unbending the mind by innocent di- 
versions. 

Pere Hardouin took me to the library of the college 
of Clermont, which consists of two long galleries well 
furnished with books ; the windows are on one side 
only, with tables under each, very comm odiously 
placed for reading and writing. The books are ar- 
ranged according: to their sizes, and their titles, being 
in gold letters on their backs, enable them to be found 

c An instrument used in battle by the Egyptians, not un- 
like a kettle-drum. 

d Christian Huygens, a very eminent Dutch mathematician 
and astronomer. He was induced by a pension from the 
French government to reside at Paris, which he did for 
fifteen years, until the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, 
and the consequent persecution and slaughter of the protest- 
ants. This bloody business, involving the fate of so many of 
his friends and countrymen, brought on Huygens a settled 
melancholy, exasperated perhaps by his sedentary habit? 
and put a period to his life. 



OF PARIS. 



97 



-with great facility. At one end of the upper gallery 
is a very large tableau, an original of Nicolo. The 
subject of it is the massacre of Agamemnon ; it is ex- 
tremely commendable that, in this picture, in the midst 
of such fury, and such variety of murders, and half 
naked figures, not one indelicate posture is to be seen. 

The library of the Grand Jesuits, near the gate of 
St. Antoine, is a very fair gallery of great length and 
breadth, well furnished with books, and at the very 
top of the house, where they not only find that books 
keep much more dry and sweet than below, but that 
the light is always clear and unintercepted. Pere 
Daniel, who is the keeper of this library, shewed me 
a Vestal of copper, which was found at Doe in the 
country of la Foret ; and a very perfect Roman ten 
pound weight, of red copper, on which was inscribed, 
Dece Sec. P. X. Also a small square stone urn, or 
tombj well carved, and thus inscribed s 
D. M. 
Supplicio 
Noto. Adeste 
Superi. 6 

M, TAbbe de Villiers accompanied me to the choir 
of the Abbey of St. Germain's, and to the Library. 
In this I saw the psalter, as is believed, of St. Ger- 
main, who lived in the sixth century. It is certainly 
very ancient, being a large quarto of fine purple 
vellum ; on it are written the psalms in large capi- 



* Which may be thus translated: 
The habitation of the dead. To Supplicius Notus. May 
the Gods be propitious I 

m 



38 



AN ACCOUNT 



tals, with commas, or points. The capitals seem to be 
of gold, the other letters of silver. He also shewed 
me the codicils, or wax-table books of the ancients, 
which were thin boards of cedar, about fourteen 
inches long, and five broad ; of these six or eight were 
united by shreds of parchment, glued upon them. 
The rims were somewhat raised with a flat and broad 
border, the better to preserve the wax with which the 
boards were covered. The style, or steel-pen, had in 
many places passed through the wax, so that with the 
assistance of a glass, the boards were visible. The 
paste, or composition, is, I suppose, the same as is at 
present used by engravers, to defend the plates from 
the corroding liquor, where it is not to act upon them ; 
this is a mixture of wax and bitumen. 

I also a saw a manuscript of three or four leaves, 
which was written upon true Egyptian paper f , the 
flags being disposed lengthways and across, one 
upon another. Of all writing this is the s most ancient 
specimen which they possess. 



f The byblus, or papyrus, is a rush which grows to the 
height of eight or nine feet. The use of it for books was 
not found out till after the building of Alexandria. As books 
were anciently rolled up, the papyrus was very convenient 
for this purpose. The inner skin of the stalk was the part 
used for writing on. From papyrus comes our English word 
paper. 

Beloe's Herodotus. Euterpe, Vol. 1, 325, N. 
* Strabo in his Geography, informs us, that in the begin- 
ning of the world, men wrote in ashes, next on barks of 
trees, then on leaves of laurels, afterwards on sheets of lead ? 
and that at last they came to write on paper. That on stones 



OF PARIS. 



99 



L<e Pere Mabillon, of the same convent, shewed me 
some drawings in red chalk, of several very ancient 
French monuments, which were found between Alsace 
and Lorraine, where were the remains of a great city. 
The figures were twelve in number, of which five or 
six were of Mercury ; a cock was at his feet, a chla- 
mys, or short cloak, hung at his back, with a knot at 
his right shoulder; his hair, which curled about his 
face, was tied with a ribbon ; he had a caduceus in his 
hand, and a girdle around his waist. These numerous 
statues in France confirm what Caesar said of the 
religion of the Gauls : " Deum maxime Mercurium 
colunt : hujus sunt plurima simulacra, &c. h " On some 
of these statues were inscribed a few Roman letters, 
which were, however, too imperfect to be legible. 

The library of St. Genevieve 1 is a large and hand- 



they wrote with iron, on leaves with pencils, in ashes with 
fingers, on the bark of trees with knives, on parchment with 
canes, and on paper with pens. 

b They chiefly worship the god Mercury, of whom they 
have many images. 

* St. Genevieve is regarded by the French as the patron- 
ess of Paris. The Church erected in honour of her, is a 
most beautiful building. In the upper part of the choir, four 
pillars of jasper, with four golden images of angels at the 
tops, support the shrine of this saint, in which lie all that 
remains of her body. Several wax tapers burn before it day 
and night, and the most devout, kiss the pillars that sustain 
the admirable relics. 

They believe that linen, or any thing else belonging to 
the body, that has touched the shrine, and been blessed, has 
the power to chase away maladies, to preserve from dangers, 
and to make prosperous in all things, those who wear it. Ia 

g2 



100 



AN ACCOUNT 



some gallery at the top of the house: it is well filled 
with books, and ornamented with busts of the ancient 
philosophers. The museum abounds with idols, lach- 
rymatories, pateras, and strigils k ; also with coins, 
measures, and weights, particularly the As l . Among 



consequence of this belief, innumerable vestments are brought 
to the priest, who is appointed for this office ; he fastens 
them in the cleft of a long pole, and raises them to the shrine, 
■which is neaily as high as the roof of the church ; he touches 
the shrine with them, and having done so, he takes them 
down, pronounces a benediction on them in the name of the 
saint, and restores them to the party. 

When the city is threatened with any public calamity, the 
shrine is taken down with great pomp and solemnity, and 
carried in procession through the streets. On one occasion, 
when rain had long continued to fall, doing incredible 
injury, it was decreed that the body of St. Genevieve should 
be taken down, and carried in solemn procession to Notre- 
Dame. The procession consisted of all the religious orders 
in the city, of women as well as men, the parliament, the 
chamber of accounts, the court of aids, the court of moneys, 
and the whole body of citizens. And no sooner was the 
shrine in the open air, than the rain ceased, the sky became 
serene and clear, and so continued I 

Letters, v. viij. p. 39. 
k Lachrymatories are glass vessels, in which tears were 
dropped and preserved, out of respect or affection for the 
dead. Pateras are broad and shallow drinking vessels, 
which were used at public feasts, or in sacrifices. Strigila 
are instruments, which were employed to cleanse the skin 
in the baths. 

1 The As was either a weight, a coin, or a measure. The 
weight was a pound of twelve equal parts or ounces, each 
having a particular denomination, as, uncia, one-twelfth ; 
sextans, one-sixth; quadrans, one-fourth: triens, one-third; 



OF PARIS. 



101 



the more ancient Roman brass coins, was a m sextus, 
with a caduceus on one side, and a scallop shell on the 
other ; probably because in the earliest ages shell- 
money was used, (as is the custom at this day in some 
parts of Africa and India) until Mercury, of whom 
the caduceus, or staff tipped with wings, and having 
two serpents twined round it, was the emblem, taught 
them metallic money. 

In this cabinet were ancient liquid measures also, 
as the congius, of which they have one, an exact copy 
of that which was in the capital • also a sextarius and 
a quartarius. Now the congius contains 120 ounces, 
the sextarius 20, the hemina 10, the quartarius 5, and 
it is very probable that the cyathus held two ounces 
and an half, which is the measure so frequently men- 
tioned in the old books of medicine. 

On the coin called the Hetrurian As, the double 
head of J anus is covered with a single cap ; and on 
the head of an ancient statue of Mercury in the king's 



quincunx, five- twelfth; semis, one-half; septunx, seven- 
twelfth; bes, two-third; dodrous, three-fourth; dextans, 
two-sisth ; dejunx, eleven-twelfth As. The measure was 
the same, the As being twelve inches, or a foot, and the 
uncia a twelfth part. The coin which was brass, at first 
weighed a pound, but in the course of ninety-six years un- 
derwent three several alterations, and was reduced at first 
to two ounces, then to one ounce, and finally to half an 
ounce. The sextans was two ounces, or the sixth part of a 
pound. 

ra According to Dr. Arbutlmot and other writers on this 
subject, the congius contained 128 ounces, the sextarius 20, 
the hemina 8, the quartarius 4, and cyathus one ounce and 

.half. 



102 



AN ACCOUNT 



garden, was a long* cap doubled, as though there were 
some affinity between those two inventors of trade, 
arts, and learning. 

In this collection were the steel dies of the Paduan 
brothers n , by which these impostors so well counter- 
feited the best ancient medals, that there is no other 
mode of distinguishing them, but by ascertaining whe- 
ther or not they fit these moulds. On this account 
they are very valuable, being estimated at 10,000 
crowns ; there are more than a hundred of them. The 
method which they took w as to strike the impression 
upon old medals ; by which contrivance the deception 
was rendered so much the more compleat ; for thus 
the coin was of the ancient metal, it had the green 
coat, and the ragged edges. 



n There were four impostors who were engaged in coun- 
terfeiting those medals which were by antiquarians called 
Paduan. John Cavin set the example; he was imitated by 
Alexander Bassien, who was his companion. Laurentius 
Parmasen rendered himself famous by the same cheat. Cra- 
ters, a Fleming, falsified a great many gold medals. There 
were many other ways of counterfeiting medals, one was by 
taking a medal that was in great request, erasing the reverse^ 
and substituting another for it; thus attributing to one prince 
the exploits of another. This was practised on a Galian, 
the reverse of which was made hollow, and a Trajan inserted 
in the cavity. On some occasions the head of Priam, of 
(Enone, of Cicero, or of Virgil, was thus attached to Grecian 
and Roman medals, after the erasure of the reverse. The 
surest criterion of the antiquity of medals is the edge, which, 
in such as are ancient, is never thin and sharp, but thick and 
uneven. — Vaillant de Veteris Nummismatis potentia, Sec- 
Paris, 1701. 



OP PARIS. 



103 



There was also a picture about six inches square, 
Unely painted in Mosaic ; the very small squares 
Were scarcely visible to the naked eye, the whole ap- 
pearing like the finest etchings in prints ; but with the 
assistance of a good glass, the squares of different 
colours, as in other Mosaics, were distinguishable. 
This kind of painting, independently of its durability, 
has an admirable effect. 

There was a very curious ancient writing instru- 
ment of thick and strong silver wire, made spiral like 
a screw ; both the ends of it pointed one way, yet at 
some distance, so that a person might put his fore 
finger between the points, and the screw would fill 
the ball of his hand. One of the points resembled the 
smallest end of a bodkin, and was for inscribing waxen 
tables ; the other was in imitation of the beak of a 
bird, the point being divided in two like our steel 
pens. From hence the moderns had their patterns, 
and now make writing instruments of silver, gold, 
and prince's metal, which are less useful than steel on 
a quill, because these are elastic, which the others are 
not. But as a quill soon spoils, steel is undoubtedly 



° The composition for Mosaic work consists of glass, tin, 
and lead, formed into small oblong squares, and ranged ac- 
cording to their colours or shades, not unlike types for 
printing. The pieces are set in soft stucco, spread over a 
rough stone which is the size of the picture, and when they 
are firmly fixed, they are polished, and, at a proper distance, 
resemble a picture. The process is extremely tedious, and 
the price exorbitant, very small pictures of Mosaic fetching 
from ten to fifteen thousand crowns. That of the four doves 
prinking out of a basin is considered as a chef d'ceuvre^ 



104 



AJT ACCOUNT 



the best, especially if used with Chinese ink; which 
is by far the most durable of all kinds of ink, and 
never corrodes the steel, but rather preserves it by 
acting as a varnish* 

The library of the late M. Colbert p is very spacious 
and well filled, and in point of neatness excels every 
one of the kind in Paris, In a room at one end of it 
are kept all the state papers that relate to his own 
administration, and to that of Cardinal Mazarin. 
They form several hundred volumes in folio, which 
are handsomely bound in Morocco and gilt. The col- 
lection of manuscripts is the choicest in Paris; it 
occupies three rooms, and consists of 6610 volumes. 
There are many which are extremely rare, viz. Ca- 
rolus Calous's bible, which is a vast folio bound in 
vellum ; and his prayer book, or hours, all written in 
golden letters ; the Missa Beati Rhenani, of which 
all the copies were burnt except four; the original 
deed of the agreement between the Greek and Roman 
churches at Florence ; the regalia, which were agreed 
on at Lyons ; and the book of Servetus, for which he 
was burnt at Geneva, This M. Colbert purchased 
at an auction in England, and gave twenty-five crowns 
for it. The title of it is " De Trinitatis Erroribus 5 
Libri 7, per Michaelem Servato, alias Reves, ab Ar- 
ragonia Hispanum, 1531." In this book the circula- 
tion of the blood through the lungs is mentioned. 

We told M. Balure, who shewed us this collection, 



p John Baptist Colbert, marquis de Seguelai ; he was very 
eminent as a minister of state, in the reign of Louis xiy. and 
as a patron of learning and learned men. 



OF PARIS. 



105 



■Chat we came to see him as well as the library ; he 
replied, that it was his lot to have more reputation 
than merit. He was a little old man, very chearful, 
and of a ready wit. He complained much of the Em- 
peror's refusal to permit some manuscripts at Vienna 
to be inspected ; and said, that letters were never at 
war ; that he, for his part, had most willingly given 
leave during the war, that at least twenty- four manu- 
scripts might be collated for Dr. Mills's Testament. 

In the Sorbonne is a Livy in French, in two books, 
bound in vellum, the first book is almost throughout 
illuminated with very fine miniatures. It is dedicated 
to king John, and in the title-page there is a very cu- 
rious design of that king receiving the present from 
Pelon Berchorius, who was the translator. Among 
the illuminations and ornamental pictures in the mar- 
gin of the book, I could not avoid noticing a well 
painted one of a brass cannon in the act of being fired ; 
on each side, near the touch-hole, w as a large gudgeon. 
This shews cannon to have been in use at that time, 
viz. 1350-64. 

This manuscript was the gift of Cardinal Richlieu 
to the Library ; he in a manner rebuilt the whole 
college, and greatly beautified it. In the centre of 
the choir, before the principal altar, is the tomb of 
the Cardinal : it is made of white marble, and, in 
point of simplicity and exquisiteness of workmanship, 
surpasses any thing of the kind that I ever saw. The 
design and execution of it were both by M. Girardon, 
who made the large equestrian statue of Lewis XIV 3 
before mentioned. 

The library of the convent of St. Victor ie a large 



106 



AW ACCOUNT 



and handsome gallery, with a range of double desks 
quite through the middle of it, and seats and accom- 
modations for writing for forty or fifty people. It is 
one of the pleasantest rooms that can be seen, both 
for the beauty of the prospect, and its freedom from 
noise, although it is in the centre of so great a 
city. 

M. Morin, the physician, resides in an outer court 
of this convent. He has an extensive and choice col- 
lection of books on medicine and natural history; a 
museum of natural history and comparative anatomy ; 
a cabinet of shells, another of seeds, of which some 
were brought from China, a variety of skeletons, &c. 

The library of the Celestins is a gallery at the top 
of the house, which is extremely pleasant, and plen- 
tifully furnished with books. The convent itself is a 
very fine building with a most noble dormitory, which 
is surrounded by an open gallery or viranda. The 
pleasure gardens are large, and laid out in alleys^ 
groves, &c. besides these there are several well culti- 
vated kitchen gardens, and a vineyard in good order^ 
the only one within the walls of the city. 

In this convent is the cell or apartment of le Per© 
Hochereau ; in which I saw a very choice collection 
of original paintings of many of the best masters. 
Among others I noticed the three excellent pictures 
of St. Peter and the Cock, the Nativity of our Sa- 
viour, and th? Massacre of the Innocents. They 
were all originals by that great artist Rembrandt, 
whose colouring is inimitable, whose invention is at 
once bold and natural, and whose designs are most 
©orrect. 



OF PARIS. 



107 



I visited le Pere Malebranche q , one of the fathers 
of the congregation of the oratory. The members of 
this society live handsomely together in a kind of 
community, but under no rule or restriction. His 
own apartment was well furnished. He is a very tall 
lean man, of a ready wit, and a very chearful com- 
panion. After an hour's conversation he took me to 
the public library of the house ; it was a light gallery, 
well furnished with books, with a room at the upper 
end for manuscripts, of which many were Hebrew and 
Greek. Among the rest was a Samaritan Pentateuch, 
which was less ancient than that in the Cotton library 
at Oxford. Such books in this collection as were 
written by protectants, were kept in wired cases^ 
which were locked, and could not be inspected with- 
out particular leave. 

The unrestrained character of this order, reminded 
me of an anecdote of M. Pinet, a learned and wealthy 
lawyer. In the decline of life he put himself into 
religion , as it is called among the Fathers, but first 
of all, he persuaded his cook to do the same, for he 
was resolved not to give up his good soups and such 
dishes as he liked, whatever might become of his 
penance and renunciation of the world. The elegant 
and learned M. le Pelletier, who succeeded M. Colbert 
as comptroller general of the finances, was actuated 
by similar feelings ; for having voluntarily resigned all 



q A philosopher of great, but temporary celebrity. His 
chief work, "The Search after Truth," shews him to have 
been a follower of Plato and Des Cartes ; and assimilated 
feim to the Quakers. 



308 



AN ACCOUNT 



his employments at court, and retired to his country 
seat near Choisy ; he retrenched the rest of his retinue, 
but retained his cook, and upon one occasion said to 
his guests, that they might expect a slender philoso- 
pher's dinner, but well dressed. 

It is surprising that the rest of the orders should so 
abuse themselves for the sake of religion, as they call 
it ; hunger and ill diet, not only destroy the health of 
a man, but in spite of all his devotion, put him out 
of humour, and make him repine at his own condition, 
and envious of the rest of mankind. Natural philoso- 
phy and physic had its origin in the desire to discover 
a better and more wholesome food than the beasts 
have, and taught mankind to eat bread and flesh, 
instead of herbs and acorns, and to drink wine instead 
of water. These, and a thousand other advantages, 
were blessings conferred on mankind by the science of 
medicine; and thejudicious management of these bless- 
ings, both in health and sickness, are still under the 
direction of physicians. Now for melancholy men to 
reject and cast away these comforts, and all this on 
a mistaken principle of religion and devotion, seems 
to me to be most ungrateful to the author of good. I 
am aware that some of these men have rendered them- 
selves serviceable to mankind by their studies, but 
they would have been far more so, if, instead of reti- 
ring from the world, they had associated with their 
neighbours, and instructed tliem by their conversation? 
and by their example. Wisdom and justice, innocence 
and temperance, to which they make such pretensions, 
should not be practised in obscurity, but brought forth 
to adorn and enlighten the age in which we live. But 



OF PARIS. 



109 



to abandon the world, and to renounce and set at 
nought the conveniences of life and health, may be 
the height of chagrin, but can have no concern with 
religion. 

I sincerely pitied Father Plumier, a very honest 
and industrious man, who after his return from India, 
retained scarcely any thing of himself besides skin and 
bones ; and yet, by the rules of his order, he was re- 
strained from eating what was necessary for his health, 
and obliged to live on fish and herbs, which were 
neither palatable nor nutritious. 

I visited several other public libraries, viz. that of 
the Grands Augustins, the College Mazarin, the 
College Navarre, but recollect nothing in them 
worthy of particular mention ; and there were several 
which I did not see. 

The passion for setting up libraries is now become so 
general, that books are sold at a most exorbitant price. 
I paid to Anisson thirty-six livres for Nigolius, 1 and 
twenty for the Memoirs de 1'Academie des Sciences, 
in two volumes, quarto. 1 was at an auction of books, 
at which were present about forty or fifty persons^ 
chiefly abbots and monks. The books were sold, as 
with us, with much trifling and delay, and fetched 
great prices. Hispania Illustrata, A. Sciotti, Ed. 
Francof. was put up at twenty livres; the biddings 



r This would' seem to be the ordinary consolation for 
Frenchmen who have retired from the world. St. Evremond 
advises a nobleman in disgrace to seek comfort in a good 
table, and to pay great attention to the goodness of his 
champaign e. 



ho 



AN ACCOUNT 



amounted by degrees to thirty-six livres, at which 
price it was sold. The next was a thin folio cata- 
logue of French books, by De la Croix de Maine, in 
an old parchment cover, which was put up at eight 
livres, at which I was so disgusted, that I left them 
to contend for it among themselves. 

I was much inclined to purchase a compleat set of 
engravings, by that incomparable artist, Melans, but 
was asked two hundred livres for one that was im- 
perfect, and of which, twelve, that were equal in value 
to all the rest, were wanting. Some of his octavo 
prints, from engravings that were executed at Rome, 
were valued at a pistole each, and the head of J usti- 
nian, which is his master piece, at a louis d'or. 

Having said thus much about the public libraries of 
Paris, I cannot but congratulate the happiness of the 
French nation, in being so secure as it is against fire ; 
for it is one of the perfections of this city, that the 
houses of it are so constructed and furnished, as for 
many ages to have been exempt from conflagrations. 
Of which exemption the great cause is, that the walls, 
the floors and the stair-cases, are, with very few ex- 
ceptions, all of stone ; there being no wainscotting, 
and the very hangings are of silk or woollen. Whereas 
in London all is combustible, and every man who 
goes to bed, lies, methinks, like a dead Roman on a 
funeral pile, ready for his apotheosis, and the paint of 
the deal boards may serve for incense the more quick- 
ly to reduce him to ashes. 



CHAP. VI 



OF THE STATE OF THE ARTS IN PARIS. 



I will now advert to what I saw here that seemed 
either new in the arts, or unknown in England. 

With the pottery of St. Cloud I was exceedingly 
pleased, for I was unable to distinguish the articles 
which were manufactured there, from the finest china 
that I ever saw. As to the paintings on it, it was 
reasonable to expect that the Chinese artists, would, 
in this respect, be surpassed by the French ; but even 
the glazing of the French was neither inferior in 
whiteness, smoothness or transparency; and as to the 
vessels themselves, they seemed, as far as I could 
judge, only short of vitrification. The vessels, while 
in the mould and undried, and before they were ei- 
ther painted or glazed, were as white as chalk ; and 
the composition melted on the tongue like the new 
clay of which tobacco pipes are made ; like that, it felt 
soft between the teeth, and was scarcely at all gritty; 
so that I doubt not but that pipe-clay is the very ar- 
ticle of which the vessels were made. As to the temper 
of the clay, the workmen freely owned, that it was 
thrice or four times made wet 4 and well beaten, before 



112 



AN ACCOUNT 



it was subjected to the wheel; but I am inclined to 
think, that it must first be perfectly melted in clear 
water, and carefully drawn off, that the heaviest parts 
may subside. This proceeding may be also necessary 
in the manufacture of courser earthen vessels. To 
bake the ware to the degree in which we saw it in the 
most finished articles, three or four fires were neces - 
sary, and for some of them eleven. 

I could not have expected to find the vase made in 
such great perfection, although I thought it might 
equal the Gomron maufacture, which indeed is little 
less than total vitrification; but I found it far other- 
wise, and very surprising; and I account it a part of 
the felicity of the age, to equal, if not to surpass the 
Chinese, in their finest art. The articles manufac- 
tured at St. Cloud, were sold at excessive rates; some 
sets had been sold at four hundred livres, and for 
single chocolate cups several crowns were demanded. 
As for the red ware of China, that has been excelled 
in England, where the materials are quite as good 
viz. the soft haematites, and the workmen superior. 
For this improvement we are indebted to two Dutch- 
men, who were lately at Hammersmith, and had 
been employed in Staffordshire. There was no kind 
of modelling or moulding in China, which they had 
not imitated at St. Cloud : besides which, they had 
added with very good effect many improvements of 
their own, which were very beautiful. M. Morin 
told me in conversation, that they regard as a secret 
the sand which they employ : this however, could be 
only for the purpose of colouring. He said also that 
they used salt of kelp in the composition, and made frit 



OF PARIS. 



113 



For glass to be wrought up with white clay. This could 
not well be, otherwise it would have been disco- 
verable by the taste in the ware in its raw state. This 
ingenious master further informed me, that for twenty- 
five years he had been engaged in making experi- 
ments, and had only discovered the method within 
three years. 

The glass-house beyond the gate of St. Antoine is 
well worthy of being seen, but the foundry or casting 
house was no longer there, having been removed to 
Cherbonne, in Normandy, on account of the greater 
cheapness of fuel, w hich is certainly a very important 
consideration in the manufacture of glass. I saw here 
one looking-glass which was silvered and finished, 
eighty-eight inches in length, forty-eight in breadth, 
and yet only one quarter of an inch in thickness. A 
plate of such dimensions could scarcely have been 
made by the blast of any one person, but must, I ap- 
prehend, be run or cast upon sand, as lead is; the 
toughness and tenacious nature of glass-metal makes 
this conjecture however doubtful. In polishing these 
glasses six hundred men are continually employed, 
and they expect soon to find work in different galleries 
for a thousand. In the lowest gallery the coarse glass 
is ground with sand-stone, the very same as is used in 
pitching the streets of Paris. This stone is beaten 
to powder, and sifted through a fine taminy or woollen 
cloth. In the upper gallery, where they give the last 
hand to the glass, and polish it with ruddle, or with 
the haematites or blood-stone finely powdered, and 
mixed with water, the men work in three rows, two 
to each plate. The plate is fixed in white putty, upoit 

H 



Hi 



AN ACCOUNT 



flat tables of stone, which are sawn thin for that 
purpose. To grind the edges and the borders is 
extremely disagreeable on account of the harsh and 
horrid noise, the grating of which could not be en- 
dured by any one unused to it, and yet by long custom 
these men become so very familiar with it, that they 
carry on conversation with the same facility as they 
would do in any other situation. This part of the 
process is however carried on below, and out of the 
hearing of the other workmen. To see the united 
labour of so many men upon one subject is very grati- 
fying ; one good effect of it has been, that glass is 
become cheap, and of course common, so that many 
of the fiacres or hackney coaches, and all the remises 
have a glass in the front. 

Among the bijoux or trinkets made at Paris, are 
artificial pearls of various sorts, which are to be had 
in great abundance ; the best of them are made of the 
scales of a fish, called de la bellete, or the bleake, 
which is caught in the river Seine. M. Favi, at the 
Pearle d'Angleterre, told me that he paid one hundred 
and ten pistoles yearly, for the fish taken in a little 
river four leagues from Paris ; and that sometimes in 
winter he has thirty hampers of these fish brought to 
him for the scales only. Some strings of these pearls 
he sells for a pistole each ; they have been dearer ; 
they are very neat and lasting. I inquired of a gold-, 
smith, who is a great dealer in pearl, concerning the 
pearls that are said to be made from the scales of fish ; 
he assured me that it was really so, and acquainted 
me with the method, which is, by first pulverizing the 
scales, and making the powder into a liquid paste with 



OF PARIS. 



115 



mucilage of isinglass ; the paste is then poured into 
hollow glass beads, which thus receive from within 
the peculiar colour of pearl. I asked him if he had any 
fresh water and muscle pearl? He said, yes; and 
shewed me one which weighed twenty-three grains, 
perfectly globular, and of a bluish or carnation colour. 
This he valued at four hundred pounds, because, he 
said, it would match with the oriental sea-pearl. He 
told me that he had seen pearls which were made of 
fresh-water muscles, that weighed each more than 
sixty grains, and some of them were pyriform. He 
added that many pearls were found in the rivers in 
Lorraine and at Sedan. 

The manufactory of the Gobelins, once so famous, 
is miserably fallen into decay, the probable reason of 
which is, that the king, having furnished all his pa- 
laces, has now no further occasion for it. I saw there 
the process of inlaying marble tables with all sorts of 
coloured stones; I also saw the attelier, or work- 
shop, of the two celebrated sculptors Tuby, in which 
.was an admirable copy of a Laocoon in white marble ; 
and those of Quoisivox, in which last, among other 
rare pieces of sculpture, was an exceedingly beautiful 
and large Castor and Pollux, after the antique. 

At Hubins, the artificial eye-maker's, I saw several 
drawers full of all sorts of eyes, which were admirable 
for their contrivance, and for their being adapted to 
match any iris whatever. In this art the exactest 
nicety is required, the slightest degree of mis-matching 
being intolerable. Hubins was formerly an artificial 
pearl maker ; he affirmed that the glass pearls were 
merely painted in the inside with a paste made of the 
h 2 



116 



AN ACCOUNT 



scales of the bleake; and that necklaces of these pearls 
formerly sold at great prices, viz. two or three pis- 
toles each. 

Near Montmartre I saw the plaster-quarries, and 
the manner of burning* the stone, which is by kindling 
an open fire against it. In the space of two or three 
hours the hardest stone is sufficiently burned. This 
stone is not peculiar to France, there being quarries 
of it near Clifford Moore, in Yorkshire, where it is 
called Hall plaster. There seems no reason why this 
stone should not be employed like lime in fertilizing 
the ground. 

I cannot omit the mill-stones, with which wheat is 
ground at Paris, and in other parts of France. They 
are very serviceable, being perfectly free from any ill 
taste ; and so firm, that not the least grit is ever 
found in the bread. They are generally formed of 
different pieces, two, three or more being fastened to- 
gether with" a cement, and surrounded with an iron 
hoop. The stone is of the honeycomb kind, and pro- 
duced by stalactites, or the petrification of water of a 
particular kind. The very same stone is met with on 
the river banks at Knaresborough, in Yorkshire, and 
is well worthy of being used in the north of England, 
where the bread is extremely gritty ; a quality which 
is to be attributed to the use of the sand or moor 
stone with which the corn is ground there. 



CHAP. VII 



9F THE FOOD OF THE PARISIANS. 



BREAD and herbs constitute the principal part of 
the diet of the people of Paris. The bread is, as with 
us, of two kinds ; the common bread is of a good co- 
lour and light, it is sold in loaves of three pounds, 
at three- pence a pound ; as for the fine bread, or 
manchet, it is inferior to the French bread made in 
London, and since the use of beer is become so com- 
mon, is often so bitter as not to be eatable. 

The gray salt which is used in France, is incompa- 
rably better and far more wholesome than our white 
salt, which spoils every thing that is intended to be 
preserved by it. For our salt, whether boiled from the 
inland salt pits, or from sea-water, is little less than 
quick lime, and burns whatever it touches. It is cer- 
tain that good salt is not to be made by fierce and 
vehement boiling, which is the method in use with us, 
but should be kerned or granulated by the heat of the 
sun, which is the French way. The only place in 
England where I ever saw it rightly made is at Mil- 
thrope, in the Washes of Lancashire, where the brine 
is full and weighty ; yet even there they boil it p al- 



118 



AN ACCOUNT 



though it might he made to deposit the salt without 
the aid of fire. 

During Lent the common people make great use 
of the white kidney-bean, and the white or pale lentil, 
of which there are great supplies in the markets dressed 
and fit to be eaten. The lentil is a kind of pulse with 
which we are unacquainted in England ; although in 
all other respects our seed shops, and consequently 
our gardens are much superior. I was much pleased 
with it. 

The roots in France differ much from ours ; the 
turnip in particular which here is long a , small and 
excellently tasted, is more useful than ours, being 
proper for soups, &c. for which ours are too strong. 
Of late we have indeed cultivated this sort in England, 
but the seeds when sown there produce roots from six 
to ten times larger than those which grow in France. 
Nor do our gardeners understand the management of 
this root. In France the seed is sown some short 
time after Midsummer, and before the frost comes the 
roots are dug up, and being put into sand, without the 



a This turnip is tap-rooted and shaped like our carrot. 
Paris is entirely supplied with it; it is called Navette de 
Virtu, from the place where it is cultivated. It is certainly 
sweeter than our turnips and far superior for pottage, and 
less stringy. It requires a deep light soil, and admits of 
being sown thicker than the round turnip. The times for 
sowing are the middle of March and August. They may be 
preserved in a hole in the ground, if it be not too damp, 
provided they be covered with lime, and then earthed over 
♦so as to throw off the rain. 

Phillips's Hist, of Cultiv. Veg. v. 2, p. 166. 



OF PARIS. 



119 



tops, are deposited in cellars under ground, where 
they will keep good till Easter or Whitsuntide; 
whereas if the frost is permitted to affect them they 
are rendered quite useless. Carrots are preserved in 
the same manner. The potatoe, which is so great a 
relief and blessing to the people of England, and so 
wholesome and nutritious a root, is scarcely seen in 
the French markets, but there is a great abundance 
of Jerusalem artichokes. Of cabbages, except the red 
sort and the savoy, the French do not seem fond, nor 
did I once see sprouts in the markets, nor any stalks 
reserved in the public gardens. To make amends for 
this, however, the large red onion and garlick are in 
profusion, and the sweet white onion of Languedoc, 
leeks, rocambole and escalots are much in use. 

It has been observed that the northern people of 
Europe are very fond of the cabbage, which is a native 
of the north, and certainly thrives best in cold coun- 
tries. On the other hand the inhabitants of the 
south prefer the onion, because the heat, which gives 
rankness to the cabbage, makes the onion mild. The 
beech-kail which grows wild on the sea-shore is also 
ripened and made much more tender and palatable by 
the cold. Leeks are smaller here than with us, yet they 
are thrice as long, being planted earlier and deeper, 
and blanched with greater ease. There is no plant 
of the onion kind so hardy as the leek, and on that 
account so proper for the cold mountains, as is shewn 
by the use which the Welch in all ages have made of 
it. It is moreover celebrated for its medicinal pro- 
perties, and is very efficacious against spitting of 
bloody and all disorders of the throat and lungs. 



120 



AN ACCOUNT 



The markets are filled with long Roman lettuce^ 
which is very superior to our Silesian ; the white beet 
also is very abundant in the months of April and 
May ; its leaves grow long and large and are tied up 
like our lettuces ; the stalks are very broad and ten- 
der, and when stripped of the green part of the leafj 
are used in soups, and dressed in other ways also. 
The asparagus is in great abundance here, but during 
the first month of its coming, the shoots are so bitter 
as to be unpleasant. The French are such great 
lovers of sorrel, that whole acres are planted with it ; 
they chiefly use it in sallads, in which its grateful 
acidity takes away the necessity of the acid juices of 
lemon, orange or vinegar. 

Nothing, however, is so gratifying to a French 
palate as the mushroom, of which, they have a plenti- 
ful supply throughout the winter. This surprised me, 
till I was informed that it is raised in hot beds. The 
French gardeners have several forced crops of mush- 
rooms in the year, but during the months of August, 
September, and October, they make no beds, because 
they grow at that time spontaneously in the fields. 
The mode of raising them artificially, is by making 
long narrow trenches, two or three feet in depth, 
which are filled with stable litter ; on this they strew 
common earth in the shape of the roof of a house, 
and over the earth put long straw or litter , b Out of 



* Lord Bacon says, " it is reported that the bark of the 
poplar cut small and cast into furrows well dunged, will 
cause the ground at all seasons of the year to put forth 
mushrooms fit to he eaten. Some add to the mixture leayen 



OF PARIS* 



this earth, after rain, spring the champignions ; and 
if rain does not soon fall, the beds are watered daily 
even in winter. When they are six days old, they 
are fit for the market. On some beds they are plenti- 
ful, on others not so, which is a demonstration that 
they spring from seeds, for the beds are alike. One 
gardener had almost an acre of ground thus cultivated, 
but his crop failed, and he estimated his loss at a hun- 
dred crowns. In general it answers as well as any 
other vegetable. The new beds are prepared about 
the latter end of August, towards Christmas, and 
from that time till March, the crops are plentiful. 
In the summer they destroy the old beds, and manure 
the ground with them. In the beginning of April I 
saw newly gathered morels in the markets, which were 
as large as a turkey's egg. They are found in great 
profusion in the woods, and those which grow at the 
foot of the oak, are preferred. It is customary to 
string and dry them. The French are excessively 
fond of this kind of mushrooms ; there may, they ad- 
mit, be bad mushrooms, but deny that there can be 
bad morels. At first I was very shy of eating them, 6 



of bread dissolved in water. It is reported, that if a hilly 
field where the stubble is standing, be set on lire, it will in 
the showery season put forth great store of mushrooms." — < 
Nat. History, 1. 17, 547-8. 

c On this subject Evelyn says, " Mushrooms, by Cicero 
called Terrse, by Porphyry, Deorum filii, without seed, as 
produced by the midwifery of autumnal thunder-storms por- 
tending the mischief they cause. They are generally re- 
ported to have something malignant and noxious in them, 
nor without cause. Exalted indeed they were to the second 



AN ACCOUNT 



but from their presence in all ragouts, 1 became fond 
of them. The inconvenience which occasionally re- 
sults from eating mushrooms, is probably owing to the 



course of the Caesarian tables, with the noble title of broma 
theon, a dainty, fit for the Gods alone ; to whom they sent 
the emperor Claudius (Suetonius in vita Claudii) as they 
since have many others, to the other world. He who reads 
Seneca, (Epis. 63) deploring his lost friend Annaeus Severus, 
and several other gallant persons with him, who all perished 
at the same repast, would be apt to ask, with Pliny (Hist. 
Natur. L 23, c. 23) speaking of this suspicious dainty, — . 
" Quae voluptas tanta ancipitis cibi:" What pleasure can 
there be in eating such dangerous food ? And who indeed 
would hazard it ? So true is that of the poet, he who eats 
mushrooms, nil amplius edit, eats nothing more perhaps all 
the rest of his life. Athenaeus informs us, that the poet Eu* 
ripides found a woman, and her three children, dead with 
eating mushrooms. I must refer those who long after this 
beloved ragout to what our learned Dr. Lister says of them, 
(Phil. Trans. No. 89, 202, Journey to Paris,) viz. that 
many venomous insects harbour and corrupt in the newly 
discovered species, held in deliciis. Those which are held 
best in flavour, and least dangerous, grow in rich, airy, dry 
pasture grounds ; (pratensibus optima fungis natura est, aliis 
male creditur. Hor. Sat. 4.) on a pedicle of about an inch 
thick and high ; moderately swelling like a shield, round 
and firm ; underneath of a pale flesh-coloured hue, radiated 
in parallel lines and edges ; when these become either yeU 
low, orange, or black they are to be rejected At Naples 
mushrooms are raised in the wine cellars in rank earth heaped 
upon old funguses. This they sprinkle with warm water hi 
which mushrooms have been steeped. In France they water 
hot beds with an infusion of the parings of refuse funguses, 
and thus produce mushrooms. These beds will last two or 
three years. Another method is to soak cuttings of the pop- 



OP PARIS. 



noxious insects that feed on and inhabit them. I 
have often seen them full of such insects. It is, how- 



lar in hot water fermented with yeast; in this way fungi 
very eatable and agreeable are produced in a few days." 

Acetaria, p. 157-8. 

Sir Alexander Dick talks of the origin and wholesomenesg 
of mushrooms in a very different strain : u I expect," he says, 
" after the first lightning, a deluge of fine mushrooms from my 
sheep-walks and lands. This wonderful vegetable is raised 
in a night, by the power of lightning penetrating the warm 
and dry surface of the earth where pasture is, when a driz- 
zling shower suddenly operates upon the seed or spawn of 
the mushroom, and prepares every morning a dish of ambrosia. 
Nothing agrees with me so well as a small dish of these 
every morning before tea ; they are to be toasted before the 
fire, basted with a little fresh butter, and dashed with a little 
pepper and salt. The nerves of the whole man feel the be- 
nefit of this dish, if taken fasting immediately before tea, 
and prevent the shakings and palpitations which many people 
find from that admirable liquid*" 

d The following experiments were made by M. Goedart 
with a view to discover what insects would be produced by 
the putrefaction of a mushroom. He put one which was 
ripe into a glass which he set in the earth in a place very 
much exposed to the sun. This was on the 30th of August, 
On the next day he found the mushroom full of black worms. 
On the 11th of September almost all the mushroom except 
the skin and the root was changed into a black water, like 
ink, in which he counted sixty-three living worms. In seven 
days these worms were transformed into flies with red heads 
and black bodies. They fed on sweet things and lived 
several months. After these worms were thus changed, he 
exposed to the sun the water out of which they came. It 
quickly appeared full of small insects, which were discovered 
by the microscope to be little serpents. Some of these he 



124 



AN ACCOUNT 



ever, possible that the forced, or garden mushroom^ 
which chiefly grow in the winter and spring, when 
insects are torpid, are less liable to be infested with 
them, than those which are wild, which grow in the 
autumnal months. 

Paris is well supplied with small, but well tasted 
carp, of which an incredible quantity is consumed in 
Lent. Oysters also are in great request; the method 
of conveying them from the sea-ports to Paris is 
peculiar : they are separated from the shells, and 
packed in straw baskets, which contain about a peck 
of them. They are in this way good for stewing and 
dressing. 

During the whole of Lent, the markets are so 
abundantly supplied with a species of wild duck ? 
called macreuse, that it is inconceivable from whence 
such a profusion can come ! This bird has a rank 
fishy taste, yet in the absence of other flesh, was very 
acceptable, for it is reckoned fish by the catholics, and 
is therefore sought after with great industry. At a 
dinner given by the king at Versailles, w r as a Macreuse 
pie, which w as two feet in diameter. e It was highly 



kept two years, during which they grew considerably. The 
largest was sixteen lines long and one broad. It was lively 
and covered with black spots. Besides the flies and ser- 
pents, small substances like sand came forth, and by degree* 
had life. At first it was a shapeless insect, but became a 
spider with long legs, it did not arrive to its full growth till 
it was about three years old. — Metamorphoses Naturelles, 
ou l'Historie des Insects, 3 vol. 12mo. Hague, 1701. par 
J. Goedart. 

■ The honour of this invention belongs to France ; but it 



OF PARIS. 125 

seasoned, and with the assistance of rare Burgundy, 



has been excelled by our native luxury, an hundred squab 
turkeys being not unfrequently deposited in one pie in the 
bishopric of Durham. 

"The bishop stow, pontine luxury, 
An hundred souls of turkeys in a pie." — Dunciad. 
But a more extraordinary pie was produced in the reign of 
Charles the first, when Jeffery Hudson, the dwarf, was 
served up to table in a cold pie, at Burleigh on the Hill, the 
seat of the Duke of Buckingham ; and as soon as he made 
his appearance, was presented by the Duchess to the Queen, 
who retained him in her service. He was then seven or eight 
years of age, and but eighteen inches high, and grew no 
taller till after he was thirty, when he shot up to three feet 
nine inches. The king's gigantic porter once drew him out 
of his pocket, in a mask at court, to the great surprise of all 
present. 

Dr. King, in his Art of Cookery, thus alludes to the 
Dwarf pie, and also to another joke often practised, of 
serving up a living hare in a pie : 

" Let never fresh machines your pastry try, } 
Unless grandees or magistrates are by ; ?• 
Then you may put a dwarf into a pie. 3 
Or if you'd fright an alderman and mayor, 
Within a pasty lodge a living hare. 
Then midst their gravest furs, shall mirth arise, 
And all the guild pursue with joyful cries ! 
A few words will finish the remarkable history of Hudson. 
Soon after the breaking out of the great rebellion he was 
made a captain in the royal army; in 1664 he attended the 
Queen to France, where he fought a duel with Mr. Crofts 
with pistols, on horseback, and killed his antagonist at the 
first fire. After the Restoration, he was imprisoned in the 
Gatehouse, on suspicion of being concerned in the Popish 
plot, and died in his sixty-third year, in confinement. It 
wasj perhaps 5 in allusion to Hudspn that Pope said, when fee 



126 



AN ACCOUNT 



went down well. There is in Leuwenhoak, a better 
argument than any which the Council of Trent could 
think of, to shew that birds in some degree participate 
of the nature of fish, although their blood is hot. viz. 
that the globules of the blood of birds as well as fish 
are oval; this however, applies to all kinds of birds, 
and in time perhaps those gentlemen may comprehend 
them all under the denomination offish. 1 ' 

As to the meat in France the best mutton and beef 



himself went armed with pistols, that with pistols the smallest 
man in the kingdom was a match for the largest, 

f On the food of the French during Lent, Sterne has a 
very humorous passage which he calls M Frogs newly 
classed." 

Comment, Monsieur, mangez la viande Vendredi Saint ? 
What, Sir, eat meat on Good Friday ? 
I should have no objection to fish, for that matter, if there 
were any good ; carp and tench I hare been surfeited with 
this Lent ; and as to your morue, it can be equalled by no- 
thing but the black broth of the ancients. 

Mais, il y a d'autres especes de poisson ; que pensez vous 
des anguilles, et des grenouilles ? 

But there are other kinds of fish, what think you of eels 
and frogs ? Frogs ! ha ! ha ! ha ! Excuse me for laughing. 
This is the first time I ever heard them classed under the 
head of fish. 

Comment ! la grenouille c'est bien du poisson, et elle est 
permise. 

How ! surely frogs are very good fish, and they are al- 
lowed. 

They may be allowed; and in this case I should think the 
penance very rigid, if I were compelled to eat them, though 
you were to call them wild-fowl. — A frog-feast to an En- 
glishman is a very severe fast. — Sent. Journey, 206. 



OF PARIS. 



may be as good as ours, but certainly does not excel 
it ; their veal is inferior, being* coarse and red. Of 
this sort of food, no people in Europe understand the 
management like the English. This superiority was 
once peculiar to Essex, but it is now generally known 
that nothing so much contributes to the whiteness and 
tenderness of the flesh of calves, as frequent bleeding, 
and giving them abundance of meal and milk. By 
large and repeated bleeding, the red cake of the blood 
is exhausted, and the vessels are filled with colourless 
serum; the cramming of poultry, produces a similar 
effect, and converts the blood into chyle ; and the 
livers of geese, fed in this manner, attain a vast size, 
and become white and very delicious. 

The French labour under a great prejudice against 
the meat of England, which they say will not make 
soup by one third part so strong as their own. It 
certainly will not make it so salt, and savoury, and 
strong to the taste ; this however, is less owing to the 
goodness of their meat, which is leaner and drier than 
ours, than to their keeping it a long time before they 
use it ; by this method a higher flavour and Salter 
taste are imparted, for as meat decays it becomes more 
salt. Now the English by custom covet the freshest 
meat, and cannot endure the least tendency to putre- 
faction ; one reason of which is, that our air, being 
far more moist than theirs, often causes mustiness in 
meat that is hung, which is intolerable to all mankind - 
whereas the dry air of France at once improves the 
taste of meat, and makes it more tender. So that if 
we could in hanging our meat secure it from musti- 
ness 3 it would far outdo the French meat^ because it 



128 



AN ACCOUNT 



is so much more juicy than that. There were only 
two sorts of animal food that exceeded what we have 
in England, viz. the wild pig, and the red legged 
partridge. These last, though small, far excel the 
gray sort. 

As for the fruits, our residence in France, which was 
from December to Midsummer, was at the worst time 
of the year, so that we had none but winter fruits. We 
had some bonne chrestienes, which, though somewhat 
freer from stones than those in England, were scarce- 
ly better tasted. TheVergoleuse pear was admirable, 
but to our regret this sort was exhausted soon after 
our arrival. The Kentish pippin was in great perfec- 
tion here, but the markets were chiefly supplied with 
two sorts of apples, viz. the calvile, or winter-queen- 
ning, which though soft and tender, continued good 
till after Easter ; and the pome apis, which serves 
more for show than use. It is a small, flat apple, and 
very beautiful, being on one side quite red, and very 
pale or white on the other, and may well serve ladies at 
their toilettes for a pattern to paint by. This apple 
is, however, not contemptible after Whitsuntide, and 
which is its peculiar property, it never smells ill if 
carried about the person. 

In their sweetmeats I met with nothing worth 
mentioning, except a marmalade of orange flowers, 
which was admirable. It was made with those flowers, 
the juice of oranges, and fine sugar. 



CHAP. VIII. 



OF THE WINES AND OTHER LIQUORS MADE USE OF 
AT PARIS. 



THE wines in and around this metropolis, though 
somewhat weak, are good in their kind; those de 
Surane are in some years excellent ; but in all the 
taverns it is the prevailing practice to make all the 
kinds of wine resemble champaigne and burgundy. 
The tax upon wine is now so great, that the same 
wine which, before the war, was retailed at five pence, 
now costs more than fifteen pence the quart. This 
has enhanced the price of all commodities, as well as 
the wages of servants and labourers, and has caused 
thousands of private families to lay in wines in their 
cellars at the cheapest hand, even those who were 
not used to keep wine. 

The wines of Burgundy and Champaigne are justly 
the most valued, for they are light and easy on the 
stomach ; and if they are kept in draught, or even 
bottled, provided the corks, according to the custom 
in France, are but loosely put in, seldom affect the 



ISO 



AN ACCOUNT 



head. The vin de Beaune a of Burgundy which is red 7 
is the most esteemed, and to me appeared to be the 
very best of any that I met with. It is in some measure 
dolce piquante. Volne, which is a pale champaigne, 
is exceedingly brisk upon the palate ; it is made on 
the very borders of Burgundy, and participates in the 
excellence of both countries. Another sort is the vin 
de Rheims, which is also pale or gray ; like all othe 
Champaign es it is harsh. The white wines of the 
greatest value are those of Marcou in Burgundy ; 
Mulso in Champaign e, which is a pleasant but weak 
wine, and Chabri, which is quick and much liked. In 
the month of March I tasted the white wines called 
Condrieu and d'Arbois, but found them both in the 
must, thick and white, like our wines when they first 
come from the Canaries, and extremely sweet, yet not 
unpleasant ; towards summer they become fine, and 
lose much of their flavour and sweetness. In Bur- 
gundy and other places a preparation which is called 
Vin Bourn, is used to stop the fermentation of wine 
in the must. Wine with this addition is called Vin 
des Liqueurs ; a wine glass full of this liquor is taken 

a The following circumstance connected with the Vin de 
Beaune is mentioned as an instance of naivete, which sub- 
jected the inhabitants of that place to a severe impost : — 
" Henry the 4th of France in making a tour of his kingdom, 
stopped at Beaune, and was well entertained by his loyal 
subjects. His majesty praised the Burgundy, which they 
set before him— it was excellent I it was admirable [ " 

" O Sire ! cried they, do you think this excellent ? me 
have much finer Burgundy than this. " 

" Have you so? then you can afford to pay for it, replied 
the king, and he laid a double tax thenceforward upon the. 
Burgundy of Beaune." 



OF PARIS. 



131 



in the morning as an equivalent to brandy. Vin du 
Turene en Anjou was one of the best white wines 
that I drank during my stay in Paris. The wine 
called Gannetin from Dauphine, is a pale and thin 
white wine, very much like the Verde of Florence ; 
it is sweet, and of a very pleasant flavour, especially 
while it is des liqueurs. 

The red wines of Burgundy when des quatres 
feuilles, as they term it, or four years old, are thought 
to be much more wholesome, and are permitted to be 
used in some cases of sickness. The same term is ap- 
plied to Volne, or any other wine which is intended to 
be kept till it be old. There are also stronger wines 
which are in request at Paris, viz. the Camp de Per- 
dris, Hermitage from the Rhone, and Coste Bruslee ; 
both these are red wines, well tasted and hot to the 
stomach, But the most excellent wines for strength 
as well as flavour, are the red and white of St. Lau- 
rence, a town between Toulon and Nice in Provence. 
These wines, which are a most delicious muscat, are 
of the kind which the Romans called vinum passum, 
that is made of grapes which were half dried in the 
sun ; for the grapes, especially the white muscadine, 
being generally ripe sooner than other grapes, it is 
the custom to twist the stalks of the clusters, so that 
the fruit can no longer receive any nutriment from the 
vine, but hang down, and grow dry in the sun, which 
at that time, August, is violently hot, so that in a few 
days they become almost raisins of the sun. From 
this insolation the flavour of the grape is exceedingly 
heightened, and the strength, and oiliness, and body 
of the wine are vastly increased. The red St. Lau» 

i 2 



132 



AN ACCOUNT 



rence was, I think, the best wine that I ever tasted. 
Besides these, here are also the white wines of Orleans, 
Bourdeaux, claret, and very excellent wines from 
Cahors ; also white and red Cabreton, which are strong- 
and delicious, and all kinds of Spanish wines, as sack, 
palm, red and white mountain, malaga and sherry ; of 
late indeed the French prefer the strongest wines. 

But there is no feasting which is not followed by 
drinking at the dessert all sorts of strong waters or 
liqueurs, particularly ratafia, which is a sort of cherry 
brandy made with peach and apricot kernels, and is 
highly piquant, and of a most agreeable flavour. Of 
these and such like kernels, the pungent and acrimo- 
nious quality was not unknown to the ancients ; nor 
were they ignorant that to some animals they proved 
poisonous. Dioscorides informs us, that a paste made 
of bitter almonds will throw birds into convulsions, 
and immediately kill them. These animals having but 
little brain, are the more readily affected by this vola- 
tile venom, and it is at least possible, that ratifia may 
have similar effects in some delicate constitutions, and 
feeble nerves, and that this may be one cause of the 
many sudden deaths which have occured of late, 

Vattee is an aromatic liqueur made at Provence, as 
is pretended from muscadine wine distilled with citron 
pills and orange flowers. Fenouillet, de l'isle du 
Rhee, is another strong water ; it resembles our ani- 
seed water, and is much liked. These and many other 
sorts of liqueurs, and strong wines, foreign and do- 
mestic, are usually brought in at the latter end of the 
dessert, and are freely used. This custom, however, 
is new, having sprung up within a very few years ; it 



OF PARIS. 



133 



was introduced by the nobility and gentry, who having 
suffered much in the long campaigns, had recourse to 
these liquors, to enable themselves to withstand the 
severity of the weather, and the hardships and fatigue 
of watching during the night ; and at their return to 
Paris they still continued the use of them at their 
tables. I wonder at the great change in this respect 
of this sober nation, but luxury like a whirlpool draws 
every thing within its influence. Sure I am, that the 
Parisians of both sexes are within a few years 
strangely altered in their constitutions and habits of 
body ; from lean and slender, they are become fat and 
corpulent, which, in my opinion, is unlikely to pro- 
teed from any thing so much as from the daily use of 
strong liquors. To which may be added coffee, tea, 
and chocolate, which are now as much in use in pri- 
vate houses in Paris, as they are in London. These 
sweetened liquids must, it is obvious, greatly contri- 
bute to corpulence. There are very many public coffee- 
houses where all the above liquors are sold, and ale- 
houses without number. 

With regard to coffee and tea, it was necessity and 
the want of wine naturally, as in the Indies and 
Persia, or the prohibition of it, as in the countries un- 
der the influence of the Mahometan religion, that put 
men upon the invention of them ; chocolate indeed was 
found out by the poor starved Indians, as ale was 
with us ; yet what but a wanton luxury could dispose 
these people, who abound in excellent wines, of all 
liquors the most cordial and generous, to ape the 
necessities of others. Mighty things, indeed, are said 
of these drinks, according to the humor and fancy of the 



134 



AN ACCOUNT 



drinkers. I rather believe that they are permitted by 
God's providence, for the lessening the number of 
mankind by shortening life, as a kind of silent plague. 
They who plead for chocolate, say, that if taken two 
hours before dinner, it gives them an appetite. Right ! 
who doubts it ? You say you are much more hungry 
having drank chocolate, than you would have been if 
you had drank none ; that is, your stomach is faint ? 
craving, and feels hollow and empty, and you cannot 
stay long for your dinner. Things that thus quickly 
pass out of the stomach, are but little welcome to it, 
and nature makes haste to dismiss them. There are 
many things of this sort that impose upon us by pro- 
curing false hunger. The wild Indians, and some of 
our people, no doubt, digest it, but our pampered 
bodies can make little of it, and to most tender con- 
stitutions it proves perfect physic, at least to the 
stomach, by forcing its contents into the intestines ; 
that, however, only impairs its functions, and hastens 
the decay of nature b . 



* Such a Philippic as this against the articles of which these 
salutary beverages are prepared, can now only excite a smile 
at the prejudices of the writer of it. Coffee is not only a 
refreshing and very agreeable article of diet, but is recom- 
mended by the most eminent of the faculty in various disor- 
ders. Tea has often been the subject of attack by medical 
and other writers, and there are, it must be acknowledged, 
individuals with whom the finest teas manifestly disagree. 
Dr. Whytt accuses it of hurting the stomach, but obviates 
his own objection, by admitting that it then only disagreed 
with him, when his stomach was already out of order. Mr. 
Hanway also made a very severe attack upon tea, which Dr. 



OF PARIS. 



135 



The greediness with which the Spaniards drink 
this beverage c is very remarkable. They take it at 
least five times daily, and the females were at one time 
so much addicted to its use, that they drank it in the 
very churches ; and it was not without difficulty, that 
the confusion thus caused could be remedied. 

The ancient Romans did better with their luxury ; 
they took their tea and chocolate after, but not before 
a full meal ; and every man was his own cook upon 
this occasion. Julius Caesar, resolving to enjoy him- 
self, that is to eat and drink to excess with his friend 
Cicero, to whom he was engaged at dinner, before he 
lay down to the table emeticen d agebat, which I con- 



Johnson successfully defended against him. Johnson was 
inordinately fond of tea, and quaffed it profusely ; and Boswell 
says, that he assured him he never felt the least inconvenience 
from it. And with regard to chocolate, it is undoubtedly a 
nutritious beverage in health, and a restorative in emaciating 
diseases. 

c The Spaniards are so much distinguished for their absti- 
nence from intoxicating liquors, that it is common among those 
of the best quality, at the age of forty not to have even tasted 
pure wine. It is an honour to tho laws of Spain, that a man 
who can be proved to have been once drunk, loses his testi- 
mony. I never was more pleased with any reply than with 
that of a Spaniard, who, having been asked whether he had a 
good dinner at a friend's table, said, " Si Sennor, a via 
sabrado; " yes Sir, for there was something left. 

Sir W. Temple. Misc. 3, p. 490. 

d Literally he excited vomiting, which he might have 
done by mere irritation of the fauces. The practice of 
causing sickness was at one time very common, and was re- 
s©rted to either as a preservative of health, or to obviate the 



136 



AN ACCOUNT 



strue thus, he prepared for himself his tea and choco- 
late, or something to make a quick riddance of what 
he had eaten and drank. 

I must not forget that among the liquors used in 
Paris, cyder from Normandy is one ; the best of that 
kind which I drank was of the colour of claret, that is 
reddish brown. The apple of which it was made, was 
called frequins ; it is round and yellow, but too bitter 
to be eaten, and yet the cyder is as sweet as any new 
wine. It keeps good many years, and improves both 
in colour and taste. I drank it frequently at the 
house of a Norman gentleman, by whom it was made, 
otherwise 1 should have doubted whether it was not 
mixed with sugar. 

There are two kinds of water in use at Paris ; that 
of the Seine, which passes through the city, and that 
which is brought by the aqueduct of Arcueil ; which, 
by the way, is one of the most magnificent buildings 
in Paris, and well worth going to see. This noble 



effects of repletion, by discharging the contents of the 
stomach ; and, which is very disgusting to modern delicacy, 
the operation was performed iu concert. There is, says 
Boerhaave, a tree growing in Paraguay, whose emollient 
leaves are very much in use with the Americans, in the form 
of tea or decoction for vomiting, as our common green tea 
is used without sugar for the same purpose by many of our 
Europeans. The native Americans were followed in this 
practise by the Spaniards; and I know some young men who 
formerly invited themselves to drink the Paraguay tea, with 
which they all vomited together into one large vessel, as was 
formerly the custom throughout all Europe; but this kind 
of vomit was laid aside, as too much weakening the stomach. 

Cicero ad Atticum.— Academ. Lect. v. vj. p. 403, 



OF PARIS. 



137 



canal of hewn stone conveys the water a distance of 
fifteen miles. The water of the Seine is very perni- 
cious to strangers, nor are the French themselves 
exempted from its ill effects if they come from any 
distance ; but the natives of Paris are not injured by it. 
The complaints to which it gives rise are looseness 
and the dysentery. I am inclined to think that the 
ponds and lakes that are let into the river to supply 
the sluices of the canal de Briare, are in great measure 
the causes of these bad qualities of the Seine water. 
People who are upon their guard, purify it by filling 
their cisterns with sand, and suffering the water to 
pass through it. By this process the water is rendered 
fine, cool, palatable and salutary. As to the spring 
water from the Maison des eaux, it is not liable to the 
above objection, but keeps the body firm. It is, how- 
ever, suspected to give rise to the stone, to which the 
people of Paris are infinitely subject. Of the tendency 
of this water to deposit calcareous earth, I met acci- 
dentally with an instance as I came from seeing the 
aqueduct of Arcueil. In the very road, near the wall 
of the aqueduct, a great number of earthen pipes, 
which had served to convey the water, were deposited 
for the repairs of the roads. The tube of these 
pipes, which was four inches in diameter, was, by a 
firm petrifaction, contracted to the breadth of a shil- 
ling. It was on this account necessary to destroy the 
pipes, as they were rendered altogether useless. Now 
that which petrifies in these pipes, is apt to petrify 



AN ACCOUNT 



also in the kidneys and the bladder of e individual! 
whose constitutions are weak. 



e The results of modern chemistry, in its examination of 
calculous concretions, are thought to invalidate the ancient 
opinions as to the causes of calculi, and it is now becoming 
the general opinion, that calculus is not an original, but a 
symptomatic affection, and dependent upon a temporary dis- 
eased action of the first passages. It is, however, an obstinate 
fact, that there is a far greater proclivity to this complaint 
in particular situations, and that in some, there is a remarka- 
ble immunity from it. Upon what principle this is to be 
explained, but by referring to the liquid ingesta as its cause, 
it is the more difficult to say, as in those situations where 
there is the proneness to the evolution of calculus, the symp- 
toms, denoting its presence, take precedence of those which 
indicate any derangement of the digestive organs, or any 
infringement of the general health. 



CHAP. IX 



OF THE RECREATIONS OF THE PARISIANS. 



-THE amusements of the people of Paris chiefly 
consist of theatrical performances, gaming, walking, 
or riding in carriages. There are two distinct houses 
for stage performances ; one for operas, the other for 
comedy and tragedy. I visited the opera but seldom, 
not being a sufficient master of the French language 
to understand it when sung ; but 1 was several times at 
the performance ofl'Europe Gallante, which is consi- 
dered as one of the very best. The scenery is very fine, 
and the music and singing are admirable. The stage 
is large and magnificent and well filled with actors ; 
the scenes are well suited to the subject, and as quick 
in the removal as can be imagined. The dancing is 
exquisite, and by the best masters of that profession 
in the city. The dresses are rich, proper, and of 
great variety. 

It is surprising that these operas are so well fre- 
quented ; even great numbers of the nobility, many of 
whom can sing them all, attend daily. To us stran- 
gers it was a very troublesome circumstance, that the 
performances were so much disturbed by the volun- 



140 



AN ACCOUNT 



tary songs of private individuals. a It really seemed 
that the spectators were as much actors as the persons 
who were employed upon the stage. The operas are 
performed under the roof of Monsieur, which is indeed 
a part of the Palais Royale ; but the theatre for come- 
dies, &c. is in another part of the town. The dispo- 
sition or arrangement of both is much the same, but of 
the two, the theatre is the smallest ; in this last the 
stage itself is let, and it is, particularly for strangers, 
the most commodious place to see as well as hear. 
I was present at the performance of several trage- 



a If the origin of the French Opera be considered, the in- 
terruption here complained of with so much apparent justice, 
will excite less surprize. It was at first set on foot by some 
gentlemen, who acted not for money, but for their own di- 
version. There were about thirty of them. When it first 
came to be acted for money, one of the actresses received 
one hundred and twenty crowns for acting one season. This 
was then looked on as so vast a reward for a singer, that she 
got the n^me of La cento vinti by it. — Spence on the authori- 
ty of Signor Crudeli of Florence. 

An Englishman, however, will make no allowance for 
such disturbances; and a very humorous anecdote of the ce- 
lebrated Matthew Prior is on record, which shews how 
much he disliked the interruption, and the address with 
which he put a stop to it : Prior was at the opera, and in 
the box where he sat, was a French gentleman, who seemed 
much more pleased in hearing himself sing than the actor, 
and who sung in so high a key, as to make it very difficult 
to hear the performances. Prior hissed ; the volunteer per- 
former, supposing that the actor was the object of the dis* 
approbation, interposed, observing that he was the very best 
singer on the stage. Prior replied, yes, but he makes suci* 
a noise, that I cannot hear you ! 



OF PARIS. 



141 



dies, but was prevented from entering into the spirit 
of them by my imperfect knowledge of the language. 
The after pieces were, however, very entertaining to 
me, particularly those of Moliere ; viz, Vendange de 
Suresne ; Pourcegnac ; Crispin Medecin; le Medecin 
malgre lui ; le Malade Imaginaire, &c. Indeed it is 
now the custom on the French stage to tack on to the 
tragedies one of these light pieces, so that person* 
may suit themselves to their different tastes. 

All agree in thinking that, although Moliere's plays 
have less of intrigue in them, his characters are in- 
comparable; and not to be exceeded for truth and 
nature. It is for this reason, that so many of them 
are comprised in two or three acts ; for without a well 
contrived intrigue, his characters, in which his excel- 
lence consisted, would have failed him. 

It is reported of Moliere, that in acting the Malade 
Imaginaire, he was seized with a disorder, which in 
less than two hours proved fatal to him. In going 
from the stage, he said to the audience, " Messieurs, 
J'ay joue le Malade Imaginaire; maisje suis verita- 
blement fort malade !" Gentlemen! I have person- 
ated the man who fancied himself ill, but I am in 
reality extremely ill myself. M. Perrault, in his life 
of Moliere, has omitted this circumstance, but it is un- 
doubtedly true. He has, however, censured him for 
his folly, in making the art of physic itself the subject 
of his ridicule, instead of selecting such individuals as 
were the disgrace of that profession. 

The almost sudden death of this actor, is a striking 
proof of the success of his performance of the character 



14S AN ACCOUNT 

which he himself designed h ; and evinces the fulness 



* Dr. Lister seems to be under some misapprehension of the 
manner and cause of Moliere's death, which he represents to be 
the effect of the passion which he was exhibiting* This, how- 
ever, was not the case; for although his death was the imme- 
diate consequence of his exertions in the performance, yet 
it was the ^effect of a disorder, under which he had long 
laboured. He was, says his biographer, labouring under a 
pulmonary complaint, and was strongly urged by his wife, 
and Baron the actor, to defer the representation. " What, 
cried Moliere, must then become of so many poor people 
who depend upon it for their bread ? I should reproach my- 
self for having neglected for a single day to supply them with 
necessaries," He exerted himself on the stage with unusual 
spirit, and his efforts brought on the rupture of a blood- 
vessel, by which he was suffocated. This happened in 
February, 1673, when he was in the fifty-third year of his 
age. — Aikin's Gen. Biog. 

The following account, however, strikingly illustrates the 
author's reasoning : — Towards the latter end of the year, 
1644, a company of stage-players were at a place called 
Vitry, entertaining the people with comedies, but there 
happened something really tragical to one of the actors. 
This man was to perform the part of one dead, and then he 
was to revive again by magic. He acted his part too truly, 
and baffled the necromancer's art, for when he was touched 
with the talisman, as the rules of the play required, in order 
to his resurrection, the inanimate trunk could not obey. 
The man was dead indeed ! 

Whether he overstrained himself in imitating the silent, 
still, and irrecoverable privations of that passive state, and 
gave his soul a strong temptation, with a fair opportunity to 
escape its bonds, or whether heaven had a particular hand 
in, so remarkable a catastrophe, I will not presume to divine ; 
but this occurrence has put the people quite out of conceit 
with plays* 



OF PARIS, 



US 



of his conception of the passion, which he could so 
well describe. It is also an example of the great 
danger of strong and vehement passions, such as joy 
and fear, by which, history informs us that many have 
been instantly destroyed. 

The following anecdote affords a good illustration 
of Moliere's method of procuring materials for his 
satirical comedies. He sent for Dr. M. a physician of 
much worth, and at that time held in great esteem at 
Paris, though now a refugee in London. Dr. M. sent 
him word that he would come to him provided he 
would agree to two conditions ; which were that he 
should only reply to such questions as should be asked 
him, without entering on any other subject, and that 
he should oblige himself to take such medicines as 
might be prescribed for him. But Moliere, finding 
the doctor too hard for him, and not so easy to be 
duped as he expected, refused the conditions. His 



Sage Hali, remember the Arabian proverb, which says, 
* It is not good to jest with God, death, or the devil ; for 
the first neither can nor will be mocked; the second mocks 
all men, one time or other ; and the third puts an eternal 
sarcasm on those who are too familiar with him." 

Letters of a Spy at Paris, vj. 83. 
On the death of Moliere, the following verses were written :. 
' Here lies the matchless man, who on the stage 
The ape appear'd of every rank and age ; 
Who striving death as well as life to act, 
Transform'd theatric fiction into fact. 
Th' ingenious copy so delighted Death, 
To realize the fraud — he stopt his breath.* 

Nout. Siecle de Louis xi v. 



144 



AN ACCOUNT 



object was to make a scene, as ludicrous, by exposing* 
one of the most learned men of the profession, as he 
had before done with regard to the quacks. If this 
was really his intention, as in all probability it was> 
Moliere possessed as much malice as he did wit; 
which last quality ought only to be employed to cor- 
rect the vices and follies of men pretending to know- 
ledge, and not to turn to ridicule the art itself. c 

There is one observation I cannot refrain from 
making on the French stage, and that is, that ob- 
scenity and immorality are no more to be met with on 



e The chief subjects of Moliere's ridicule, were the petits 
maitres, the pedants of both sexes, and the faculty. The 
former classes kissed the rod. The faculty sheltered itself 
in its gravity, and the stronghold it had on the feelings of 
society. But his attack on the hypocrisy of the clergy, in 
his TartufFe, was an inexpiable offence, the consequences of 
which pursued him after death ; for the archbishop of Paris, 
Harlai, a man of slender virtue, refused him burial in con- 
secrated ground, and it was only by the king's interference 
that he was at length interred privately in a chapel. Even 
the populace resisted his burial, till their consent was pur- 
chased by money ! 
On this occasion, the following Epigram was produced : 

Since at Paris they deny 

Rites funereal to supply, 

To the bard of happy vein, 

Who could vice and folly feign, 

Thinking it a deadly sin 

Comic actor to have been — 

Why on dunghills are not laid 

Bigots of the self-same trade ? 



6# PARIS* 



145 



it, d than in the conversation of people of good breed* 
ing and fashion. 

On one Sunday during Lent, I heard a sermon at 
La Charite, which was preached by a very young man 
who was an Abbot. His su bject was the descent of the 
angel into the pool of Bethesda, and his troubling the 
waters of it. I was not so good a Frenchman as to 
understand all that he said, but he advanced many good 
arguments for the necessity of grace, and shewed what 
were the means of attaining it. I was extremely sur- 
prized at the vehemence of his action, which seemed 
to me to be altogether comic, and like that of the 
performers whom I had seen on the stage a few days 
before. His expressions also were in too familiar a style. 



d This commendation of the French stage, conveys a just 
reflection on that of England, which was then notoriously" 
tainted with profaneness, immorality, and the "taste ob- 
scene." All the great writers for the stage were disgusting- 
ly impure : 

In all Charles's days 
Roscommon only boasts unspotted lays. 
At length, says Johnson, Collier, a fierce and implacable 
non-juror, walked out to battle, and assailed at once most of 
the living writers, in a work which he called " A short view 
of the immorality and profaneness of the English stage." His 
onset was violent ; those passages, which, while they stood 
single, attracted little notice, when they were accumulated, 
and exposed together, excited horror ; the wise and pious 
caught the alarm, and the nation wondered why it had so 
long suffered irreligion and licentiousness to be openly taught 
at the public charge. The dispute was protracted through 
ten years ; at length Comedy grew more modest, and Collier 
lived to see the reward of his labours in the reformation of 
the stage. 

U 



146 



AN ACCOUNT 



I have always been accustomed to think that a sermos 
to the people, requires a grave and embellished kind 
of eloquence, accompanied with a certain dignity of 
action. It is, however, possible, that this method is 
most suitable to the customs and manners of the 
French, e who are all motion, even when they speak 
on the most easy and familiar subjects. 



e The following anecdote of the celebrated Boudelot, who 
has been called the Tillotson of France, affords a happy il- 
lustration of the truth of this remark. This Father was to 
preach on a Good-Friday, and the proper office? came to 
attend him to Church ; his servants said he was in his study, 
and that if he pleased he might go up to him. In going up 
stairs he heard the sound of a violin, and as the door stood 
a little a-jar, he saw Boudelot stripped into his cassock, 
playing a good brisk tune, and dancing to it about his study. 
He was extremely concerned, for he esteemed that great 
man highly, and thought he must be run distracted. How- 
ever at last he ventured to tap gently at the door. The 
Father immediately laid down his violin, hurried on his 
gown, came to him, and with his usual composed and plea- 
sing look, said, u Oh, Sir, is it you ? I hope I have not made 
you stay, I am quite ready to attend you.'* The poor man, 
as they were going down, could not help mentioning his 
surprize at what he had seen and heard. Boudelot smiled and 
said, " Indeed you might well be a little surprised, if you 
don't know any thing of my way on these occasions, but the 
whole of the matter was this : in thinking over the subject 
of the day, I found my spirits too much depressed to speak 
as I ought to do, so had recourse to my usual method of 
music and a little motion. It has had its effect, I am quite 
in a proper temper; and go now with pleasure to what I 
should have else gone in pain." — Spence's Anecdotes, p. 40. 

A far more ludicrous method was practised in Spain on a 
Good-Friday. The preacher, after expatiating on what ouf 



OF PARIS. 



147 



Gaming is here a perpetual diversion, if it be not 
rather one of the excesses of the town. But games of 
mere hazard are strictly forbidden, and severe penal- 
ties are inflicted on the occupier of any house, in 
which games of this description are permitted, whether 
the house be public or of a private character. This 
regulation was made on account of the officers of the 
army, who used during the winter to lose the money 
at play, with which they were entrusted for the pur- 
poses of procuring recruits, and renewing their equi- 
pages in the spring. And indeed, such quick games 
as Bassot, Hazard and the like, where fortune is all in 
all, are great temptations to ruin, by the sudden emo- 
tions which they are apt to excite in the players; 
while games where skill, and cunning, and much con- 
sideration are required, afford a man time to cool, 
and recover his presence of mind, if at any time great 
losses have discomposed him ; for he must either 
quickly come to himself again, or forfeit his reputa- 
tion for skill in play, as well as for prudence in the 
management of his money. 

I happened to be at Paris during the fair of St. 
Germain, which lasts at least six weeks. The place 
where it is held well bespeaks its antiquity, for it is a 
pit, or rather a mere hole in the middle of the Faux- 



Saviour had suffered for us, aud of our ingratitude towards 
him, at length gave himself a great box on the ear, and said 
"Lord, must I be so ungrateful and so wicked?" Upon 
which the whole congregation, consisting of four thousand 
persons, fell to boxing themselves all at once, making the 
fame exclamation! — Voyages faites en divers terns, &c. 

Amsterdam. 1669, 

* 2 



wm 



148 AN ACCOUNT 

bourg, and belongs to the great abbey of St. Germalnf, 
It is on all sides surrounded by descending ground^ 
and on some parts is more than twelve steps deep, so 
that the city is raised six or eight feet above it. The 
building is a mere barn, or frame of wood work tiled 
over, the place, where the fair is held, consists of 
many long alleys crossing each other ; the floor un- 
paved, and so extremely uneven, as to be very uncom- 
fortable to the feet, and, were it not for the vast crowd 
of people, to make it difficult to preserve an upright 
posture. All this denotes the great antiquity of the 
fair and the rudeness of the first ages of Paris, and 
serves, as a foil to set off its present refinement in all 
other respects. The fair consists of toy shops of most 
kinds, and of such articles as are seen at Bartholomew 
fair in London, viz. pictures, cabinet-work, linen and 
woollen drapery, but no books. Many of the great 
milliners' shops are removed hither from the Palais. 
There are many confectioners' shops, where the ladies 
are commodiously treated, and also coffee-shops, 
where that beverage and the strong liquors before 
spoken of are sold. 

The great conflux of people is at night, after the 
theatres are closed. The great diversion is raffling 
for all things that are vendible, nor is there any shop 
that is not furnished with two or three raffling-boards. 
Monsieur the Dauphin, and other princes of the blood 
come to grace the fair at least once during its con- 
tinuance. 

Knavery is here, as with us, in great perfection ; 
and the pick-pockets and cut-purses are equally dex- 
terous. A pick-pocket came into the fair at night 



OP PARIS. 



149 



extremely well dressed, and attended by four lacqueys 
in handsome liveries. He was caught in the fact, and 
though more swords were drawn in his defence than 
against him, yet he was apprehended, and delivered 
into the hands of justice, which is here summary and 
no jest. I was much surprised at the impudence 
of a show-man, who exhibited on his booth the pic- 
tures of some Indian beasts with hard names; but of 
four that were thus painted I found only two, and 
those very ordinary ones, viz. a leopard and a racoon. 
I asked the fellow what he meant by so deceiving the 
public, and whether he was not afraid, that in the end 
he should be cudgelled? He answered with equal 
readiness and effrontery, that it was the fault of the 
painter; that he had employed two artists to paint the 
racoon, and that both of them had mistaken the beast ; 
he added, however, that though the pictures were not 
well designed, they still served to grace his booth, and 
to bring him custom. 

At this fair I saw a female elephant between eight 
and nine feet high. It was ill fed, and very lean, but 
no creature could be more docile. I remarked that 
in making her salutes to the company, she bent the 
joints of her legs very nimbly ; also that the toe-nails 
were large, and almost five inches long ; and that its 
ears were entire. This was brought from the con- 
tinent ; but one which I saw in London thirteen years 
before, and which came from the isle of Ceylon, had 
its ears scallopt, and its tail set with two rows of 
large, thick, and stiff black hairs. It was therefore of 
another species. 

The great and constant business of people of qua- 



150 



AN ACCOUNT 



lity in the mornings is paying visits in carriages ; in 
the evening the Cour de la Mayne is much frequented, 
and is a great rendezvous of persons of the best 
quality. The place indeed is as commodious as it is 
pleasant; there being three alleys of great length 
ranging with the Seine, planted with high trees, and 
inclosed at each end with magnificent gates; in the 
centre is a very large circle to enable the carriages to 
turn. The middle alley or drive affords room for at 
least four rows of carriages, and each side alley for two 
rows; so that, supposing each row to contain eighty 
carriages, the whole when full may amount to between 
six and seven hundred. On the field side, adjoining 
the alleys, are several acres of meadow ground planted 
with trees in the form of the quincunx, in order that 
the company may, if so disposed, walk on the turf in 
the heat of summer, and yet be protected from the 
sun. 

In one respect this cours is inferior to the drive in 
Hyde-Park ; viz. that if it he full, you cannot twice in 
the hour meet with the company you may wish to see ; 
and besides, you are confined to one particular line. Oc- 
casionally too, the princes of the blood visit the cours, 
and drive at pleasure from one alley to another, caus- 
ing a strange interruption and confusion. Besides, if 
the weather has been rainy, the road, being very badly 
gravelled, becomes so miry that there is no driving 
on it. 

They who are disposed to take the air further out 
of the town have the choice of two woods, one at its 
eastern, the other at its western extremity ; viz. the 
Bois de Bologne, and the Bois de Vincennes. Both 



OF PARIS. 



are commodious ; but the latter affords most shade, 
and is the pleasantest. In the outer court of the 
latter are some very ancient Roman statues. In 
the Bois de Bologne is a castle, which is called 
Madrid. It was built by Francis the first, and is al- 
together Moresque, in imitation of one in Spain. It 
has at least two rows of covered galleries passing 
quite round the four fronts of it. Such an arrange- 
ment in a hot country must be very refreshing and 
delightful. This structure is said to have been de- 
signed for a much hotter climate than that of France, 
but which that king had no inclination to visit a se- 
cond time. 

Towards eight or nine o'clock the greatest part of the 
company return from the cours by water, and land at 
the garden gate of the Tuilleries, where they walk in 
the cool of the evening. The disposition of this gar- 
den is in the best taste, and the garden itself is in its 
prime; so that M. le Notre, who contrived it, had 
the satisfaction not only of seeing it in its infancy, but 
of enjoying the perfection of his labours. 

The moving furniture of this garden at this hour of 
the evening, is certainly one of the noblest sights. At 
my departure, when I took my leave of a lady of quality, 
Madame M. she asked me what pleased me most that 
I had seen in Paris ? I answered her civilly, as I ought 
to do; she would not, however, accept my compli- 
ment, but urged me for a further answer. I then told 
her, that I was just come from seeing what pleased 
me most, which was the middle walk of the Tuilleries 



152 



AN ACCOUNT 



in June, between eight and nine at night; adding 
that I did not think there was in the whole world a 
more agreeable place than that alley, at that; time of 
the evening, and of the year. 



CHAP. X. 



OF THE GARDENS IN AND NEAR TO PARIS. 



I am now to speak of the gardens of Paris, and 
shall offer a short account ot all such of them as I 
saw, that were of any note. 

The garden of the Tuilleries is very extensive, and 
on two of its sides has a terrace; one of them, being 
adjacent to the Seine, is planted with trees, and is made 
very amusing with vast parterres, in the centre of 
which are large fountains of water, which are con- 
stantly playing. One end of this terrace adjoins the 
front of that magnificent palace the Louvre ; the 
other end slopes off, and for the sake of the prospect^ 
lies open to the fields. The rest of the garden is 
distributed into walks, lawns and shrubberies, with a 
great number of seats for the accommodation of those 
who are tired : there was in the Tuilleries one em- 
bellishment with which I was greatly delighted, viz. 
an amphitheatre, with the stage, pit, and seats, an (J 
covered alleys, leading from ail sides to the stage, 
and affording the most charming scenes. Nothing 
can be more pleasing than this garden, in the shrub- 
berries of which, although it is almost in the heart of 



154 



AN ACCOUNT 



the city, blackbirds, thrushes, and nightingales, sing 
without restraint or interruption ; for no birds are 
suffered to be destroyed here, and the fields around 
and close to Paris, abound with partridges and all 
other game. 

The garden of the Palais of Luxembourg is also 
extremely large, and has in its appearance something 
champetre, or rural, not unlike St. James's park. It 
is less frequented now than it was formerly, in conse- 
quence of the injury done to the walks by the hard 
winters, which have destroyed the fences. Still, how- 
ever, it has its fountains and parterres, and some 
well shaded alleys ; and in point of the purity and 
salubrity of the air, it is preferable to the Tuilleries, 
being more elevated, and nearer to the fields of the 
Fauxbourg of St. Germaiiis. 

The king's physic garden a is very spacious, and 



a Dr. Lister's description of this delightful garden is far 
from doing justice to it; I shall therefore supply its defi- 
ciency by inserting the following account of it, evidently 
drawn up by an eye-witness : 

" There is a garden in this city, (Paris) which is called the 
king's; it is appropriated by the royal bounty of the kings 
of France, to the service and improvement of the students in 
physic. A yearly stipend is settled on an approved physician, 
whose office it is to take care that no plant or herb be want- 
ing, and to deliver a lecture in latin every morning, during 
the summer, on the simples which grow there. He who now 
fills the office is a very learned and ingenious man, and takes- 
great pains to make the students, who are very numerous, 
perfect herbalists; and he demonstrates the plants with an 
action so graceful, and explains them with such eloquent 
language, and with so composed a spirit, that all who are 



OF PARI?. 



155 



well furnished with plants; it is open to all well 
dressed people. There is in it a great variety of 
ground, as ponds, woods, meadows, and mountains; 



present at his ieeture, are charmed and made in love with 
botany. 

The gardeu is open to all gentlemen, on condition that they 
leave their swords with the gate-keeper, to prevent quarrels 
and mischief. I enter daily among the rest, and when the 
lecture is over, I retire into one of the most pleasant shades 
Id the world. It is a gravel-walk the whole length of the 
garden, on each side of which grow lofty trees, planted so 
thick, and intermixing their leaves and branches so closely 
at the top, that they compose a perfect natural umbrella 
over the walk, from one end of it to the other, that not a 
beam of the sun can enter. But that which creates in me 
the greatest complacency, is, that the further end of the 
walk is not closed by a high wall, but whether you sit, or 
stand, opens to you a very agreeable and large prospect of 
the country adjacent to the ciry, which fills the eye with in- 
credible deiight. — Letters. &c. vol. 2. p. 28-29. 

Yet ail this falls vastly short, in point of resemblance to 
nature, of the hortus pensilis which belongs to the winter 
palace of the Emperor of Russia. It is on a level with the 
grand apartments, and is six fathoms above the ground. In 
this are gravel walks, grass plots, parterres of flowers, rows 
cf orange trees, birch, pines, lime trees and shrubs of vari- 
ous kinds, exactly as in other pleasure gardens, with bowers 
and arbours all round it. The whole is heated in winter by 
means of flues conveyed along the vaults beneath. Over 
the garden is a wire net, so fine as to be scarcely perceptible. 
Here are all kinds of singing birds, foreign as well as native, 
flying about from tree to tree, as in the woods from whence 
they were brought, picking up the proper food distributed 
for them, making their nests, or warbling among the- 
branches. 



156 



AN ACCOUNT 



besides a vast extent of level, by which arrangement, 
it is fitted for the accommodation of most kinds of 
plants. I first saw it in March, with Dr. Tournefort, 
and Mr. Breman, the chief gardener, who is a very 
intelligent and industrious man. The green-houses 
are well filled with tender exotics, and the parterres 
With simples, few of which were yet to be seen ; it 
was, however, easy to form an opinion of them from 
the trees and shrubs, and such other plants as preser- 
ved their heads during winter. 

Dr. Tournefort told me, that during the summer he 
delivered thirty lectures, and in each lecture demon- 
strated a hundred plants, in the whole three thousand; 
besides those which are very early, and very late, 
which he computed to amount to a thousand more. 
This garden is endowed by the king and the duke of 
Orleans, and possesses rents amounting to two thou- 
sand pounds ; out of which sum, five hundred pounds 
are paid annually to the physician who superintends 
it, and the remainder is expended in paying the 
botanic lecturer, and the gardeners, and in supplying 
them all with lodgings. M. Breman told me, that he 
had in the beginning of April finished sowing his 
couches, or hot beds, and that he had put into them 
two thousand species of seed. 

From the mount in this garden, I had a full view of 
the palace, or country-seat of the Pere de la Chaise, b 



b This is the person who enjoined on Lewis xiv. the re- 
vocation of the Edict of Nantes, as an act of devotion to ex- 
piate the scandal of his amours ! Bishop Burnet relates a 
story of some humour with which this Father was connected ; 



Of PARIS. 



the king's confessor. It is on the opposite side of the 
Seine, on the declivity of a high ridge of hills, finely 



In the year 1685, he says, it was expected by the court 
of France that the king of England would declare himself a 
papist ; and the Archbishop of Rheims went so far as to tell 
Bishop Burnet that Charles was as much theirs as the Duke 
of York, but that he had not so much conscience. And 
Lewis himself said either at a levee, or at table, that a great 
thing would shortly occur in England with respect to 
religion. The reason of which was this: A missionary from 
Siam who had lately returned to England, boasted of his 
having converted and baptized many thousands in that 
kingdom. He was well received at court, and Charles 
amused himself with hearing his adventures. Upon this he 
asked for a private audience, in which he vehemently pressed 
the king to return to the Catholic Church. The king took 
this very civilly, and returned, according to his manner, such 
answers as induced the priest to conclude that the thing was 
nearly done. Upon which he wrote to Pere la Chaise, in- 
forming him that they would soon have the news of the 
king's conversion. The Confessor carried the news to Lewis, 
who directed that the missionary should try to convert Lord 
Halifax. Lord Halifax put many questions to him, to which 
he made such simple auswers, as atforded his lordship much 
scope for ridiculing conversions made by such men. LordH. 
asked him how it was they had not converted the king of 
Siam, since he was so favourable to their religion ; to which 
he replied, that that king had said that he could not forsake 
the religion of his fathers, unless he saw good grounds to jus- 
tisfy the change ; and that since the author of their religion 
had left with his followers a power of working miracles, he 
desired they would apply that power to himself. That 
he had a palsy both in his arm and leg, and if they 
could deliver him of that, he promised to change immedi- 
ately. Upon which the missionary said that the bishop, who 
was at the head of the mission, was assez hardi, bold 



AN ACCOUNT 



open to the south, and on each side well planted with 
woods. A fit residence for a contemplative person. 

The garden of the Palais Royal, considering that 
it is in the centre of the town, is very extensive; 
it has two or three basins, each fitted up with a jet 
d'eau, which, however, is out of order. Although 
there is nothing elegant in this garden, except the 
walks and parterres ; it is always the resort of good 
company. 

The garden of the Arsenal is much larger, and in 
better order : it affords a prospect of the fields, and 
lies open to the ramparts, and is much frequented for 
the beauty of its walks. 



enough to undertake it. A day was fixed ; the bishop with 
the priest and some others came to the king, who after some 
prayers told them, he felt some heat and motion in his arm, 
but that the palsy was more rooted in his thigh. So he de- 
sired the bishop to go on, and finish what he had so happily 
begun. The bishop thought he had ventured enough, and 
w T ould engage no further, but told the king, that since their 
God had made one step towards him, he must make the next 
to God, and at least meet him half way. But the king was 
obstinate and would have the miracle finished before he 
would change. On the other hand the bishop stood his 
ground, and so the matter went no further. Upon which Lord 
Halifax said, they ought to have prayed the palsy into his 
arm again, as well as they prayed it out, and that if it had 
returned, that would perhaps have given him full conviction* 
This put the missionary into some confusion, and Lord Hali- 
fax repeated the story to the king and duke, with such an 
air of contempt that the latter was highly provoked by it. 
But the priest appeared at court no more. 

Burnet, Hist, of his own Times, v. 2, 1036. 



OF PARIS. 



159 



Many of the convents have large gardens, which are 
kept in good order, and are always open to the gen- 
teel part of the public. That of the Carthusians is 
very large and champetre ; and that of the Celestins 
is very beautiful and spacious. But the garden of St. 
Genevieve, which is ample, and kept in excellent 
order, is remarkable for the length and breadth of its 
terrace, which surpasses every thing of the kind in 
Paris. It is protected from the sun by a row of ches- 
nut trees. On the. south-side of this terrace are three 
or four square clumps of the same trees, which produce 
a surprisingly cool and agreeable effect in summer. 

Among the private gardens which I saw at Pari?, 
was that of D' Aumont, the green-house of which 
opened into the dining-room. The treillage, or ar- 
bour work, was decorated with gilding, and in the 
middle of it was a pavilion, in which was an antique 
statue of a Roman youth, in good preservation. The 
fashion of the toga on this statue was so evident, that 
it might alone serve to refute those, who con- 
tend that the Roman toga was a garment open in the 
front, like a cloak. The treillage consists of such a 
variety of ornament, that it resembles fillagree work. 
The green painting of these works, is not equally 
well executed in all places : few painters hit the exact 
colour; some making it too yellow, some more of a 
sea-green, and others of a sad and dirty hue. To 
succeed in this respect, the w ork should be primed with 
yellow, and then covered with vert de montagne, or 
lapis armeniacus, of which last article we have plenty 
in England. The great convenience and utility of 



m 



AN ACCOUNT 



treillage in cities, besides its agreeableness to the eye, 
is, that it conceals such objects as are unsightly. 

In this garden there were many well grown fig- 
trees in square boxes, and parterres well filled with 
flowers ; yet there was only one sort in each, such as 
tulips, &c. 

The garden of Puissant is neat, and at the lower 
end lies open to the Tuilleries. The arbour at the 
upper end, is very fine; it is seventy paces long, and 
eight wide, and has three pavilions all open at the 
top. The whole of it is formed of iron, painted green, 
and cost fifteen thousand livres. There were here in 
cases some plants not to be met with elsewhere. The 
walls Were well covered with fruit trees ; and the garde- 
ner,who was an artist by profession; had not yet pruned 
his peach-trees, assigning as a reason for this delay, 
that he had found by experience, that by postponing 
the pruning of these trees till they had blossomed, 
the fruit was much finer. The orangery was, for its 
size, the most beautiful room that I ever saw. It was 
paved with marble, and the walls were neatly wain- 
scotted with oak, after the English manner. In the 
summer-time, when the fruit-trees were kept in the 
open air, this room was probably used as a refectory ^ 
The treillage in the garden of Comartin was most 
admirable ; it was in the form of a triumphal arch. e 



c This infringement on the appropriation of triumphal 
arches is justly censured by Pope. 

" Turn arcs of triumph to a garden gate." 
This absurdity, he says, seems to have arisen from an in- 



OP PARI9. 



161 



One half of it was a well filled aviary, with a fountain 
in it. In this garden were large iron vases, mounted 
on pedestals, and painted so as to resemble bronze. 

Les Diguieres. This is the only house that I saw 
in Paris which was kept with much attention to neat- 
ness and cleanliness. In the garden there were seve- 
ral pieces of treillage ; one at the upper end, which 
was very magnificent, cost ten thousand livres ; another 
six thousand ; a third, which was smaller, was com- 
posed entirely of iron foliage, painted green ; the only 
one of the kind that I saw. There were also large 
vases of treillage raised on pedestals. The fountains 
in this garden, though small, were very curious, and 
were embellished with proper ornaments; which., 
when the fountains played, had a surprising effect. In 
the outer court were laurustinuses of a very large size 
in vases, and there were several of them in the natu- 
ral earth in the garden, which were cut into the shape 
of pyramids. 

A person of quality came to me in the garden, and 
with great civility conducted me to the apartments. 
In that of the duchess, which was entirely of her own 
contrivance, there was an air of state and agreeable- 
ness exceeding any thing that I had ever seen. One 
piece of ornamental furniture I particularly observed ; 



judicious imitation of what these builders might have heard 
at the entrance of the ancient gardens of Rome : but they do 
not consider, tbat these were public gardens, given to the 
people by some great man after a triumph; to which there- 
fore, arcs of this kind were very suitable ornaments. 

Moral Essays, Ep. 4, v. 3Q r and note^ 



162 



AN ACCOUNT 



this was a crystal candlestick, hanging from the centre? 
of the ceiling in the bedchamber. It is reputed to be 
the finest in France, and cost twelve thousand crowns. 
The pieces were bought by the duchess singly, and 
the arrangement of them was entirely her own. 

Before I left the garden, 1 saw in an obscure par- 
terre, a tomb, which was erected to preserve the 
memory of a cat. Upon a square black marble pe- 
destal was carved a black cat, couchant on a white 
marble cushion, which was fringed with gold, and 
had a gold tassel hanging at each corner. On one 
side of the pedestal was the following inscription in 
letters of gold : 

Ci gist Menine, la plus aimable et la plus aimee de 
toutes les chattes d . 

On the other side also in letters of gold were these 
lines : 

CI gist une chatte jolie, 
Sa maitresse, qui n' aimoit rien, 
L'aime jusques a la folie. 
Pourquoi dire ! on le voit bien e . 



* Here lies Menine, of all cats the most lovely and the 
most beloved. 
e A charming cat here buried lies,. 
Lov'd by its mistress, ah too well ! 
That mistress who did all things prize. — ■ 
But words are weak her love to tell. 
Ah Pierrot ! in thy vig'rous days, . 
By early death laid low ; 
On thee no marble urn I raise, 
. No mould' ring pomp bestow. 



OF PARIS. 



163 



This is not the first instance that 1 have met with 
of this kind of folly ; something of the same sort I 
have seen in England; and much more occurs in 
history. f If I am to be blamed for transcribing this 
epitaph, I acknowledge the censure to be just ; but I 
never could have forgiven myself if I had copied the 
many fine inscriptions which I saw at Paris ; although 
some of them are couched in most elegant, and truly 
Roman language, and others in pure court French. 
These, however, may be read in the Description of 
Paris. 

De Longe. Here we had the good fortune to find 
the Marshal himself walking in his garden. He en- 
tertained the dean of Winchester and myself with 



But near this brook I lay thy head, 
Where willows shade the ground ; 
And crop the weeds that dare to spread, 

And smooth the turf around ! 
Pierrot ! be this the tomb I give, 

This melancholy lay ! 
Haply these tender strains may live, 

AVhen costliest piles decay. 
And when, my sorrowing period spent. 

The grave shall gape for me ; 
Thy master's be a monument, 
Like this, dear Puss, to thee." 
f iElian, in his various history, tells us that Polyarchus 
was so extremely prodigal, that he would bring forth the 
dead carcasses of dogs and cocks, if he had been fond of 
them when living, and invite all his friends and acquaintance 
to their burial, sparing no expence ; he raised upon their 
graves large pillars, and inscribed them with epitaphs. 



164 



AN ACCOUNT 



great civility. The garden was unfinished and the 
house itself only building. It is, however, one of the 
finest in Paris, and has the great advantage of a most 
free and extended prospect of the fields, and of Mont- 
martre. At the end of the garden rises a terrace as 
high as the rampart. 

One arrangement in this house, which was equally 
commodious and noble, was, that carriages drive be- 
tween the two courts, through a stately hall, the roof 
of which rests upon pillars, and may set down on 
either side ; and in the farthest court, which is only 
divided from the garden by high palisades of iron, 
they turn and receive the company again, so that no 
inconvenience is felt from the weather. Such a con- 
trivance is much wanted in Paris, but still more in 
London. This hall, which is built upon arches, opens 
into the garden ; and the staircase itself is so contrived, 
that an individual, in descending it, enjoys a full pro- 
spect of the garden and Montmartre. The marshal 
shewed us his own apartment, all the rest of the house 
being occupied by the workmen. In his bed-chamber 
was his little red damask field bed, which served him 
when he commanded upon the Rhine, and in which he 
sleeps now. He also shewed us his large sash win- 
dows, which were made from a model that he had 
received from England; the method of counterbalan- 
cing the sash being at that time unknown, or not in use 
in France. He conducted us into a suite of small 
rooms, furnished in the English manner, and which 
he locked after him. He would attend us to our 
carriage, and sent his page after us to invite us to 
dine with him before our departure. 



OF PARIS. 



.165 



Hotel Pelitier. The garden here was very neat, 
with a treillage at the end of it, in imitation of a 
triumphal arch. It was neither lofty nor well painted, 
yet it had beauties, and was finished in a manner dif- 
ferent from any which I had seen before. In the two 
niches were placed large vases, or flower pots of iron, 
and behind each of them was a basin of water, with a 
jet d'eau, which was made to play for our amusement. 
With compliments of this kind the French are very 
fond of entertaining strangers. 

The best treillage of wood intermixed with iron 
bars, is in the garden of M. Louvois, which is one of 
the neatest in Paris. The whole upper end of the 
garden is embellished with a noble treillage, after the 
manner of a triumphal arch. It cost a great sum of 
money. Within it are four statues, elevated on pe- 
destals; they are antique, and produce a pleasing 
effect, although their workmanship is somewhat in- 
ferior. They represent a Diana, an Apollo, one of 
the early Roman empresses, &c. On one side of the 
treillage, is a large and well filled aviary. The walls 
of the green house are matted, and large pans of iron 
hang down in the midst of it, at equal distances, and 
opposite to each window. .Lines run over pulleys to 
raise these pans to any height, or to lower them. This 
is a very useful contrivance for correcting the mois- 
ture of the air, which is caused by the exhalations of 
the plants. Hot beds puff up plants, yet a warm air 
above them, may in the winter prove equally service- 
able to nourish and refresh them. 

The last private garden which I saw was extremely 



166 



AN ACCOUNT 



pretty. At its upper end was a noble treillage, with 
two large vases of iron painted of the colour of brass, 
and gilded. Here I saw an apple tree potted, as the 
fig and orange trees used to be; it was the white 
queenen, or calvil d'Este, the stem not exceeding the 
size of the thumb; it was full of fruit on the first of 
J une. There were also many pots of the sedum py- 
ramidale, a most elegant ornament, but nothing was 
so magnificent as the double red and white striped 
stocks. These they multiply with great care, and 
their pains are fully requited. Besides these, there 
was a great number of private gardens well worthy 
of being seen, but the season of the year was un- 
favourable. 



CHAP. XI 



i>F THE ROYAL PALACES AND GARDENS. 



HITHERTO I have confined myself to the de- 
scription of such objects as I saw in Paris. The 
country surrounding the capital is full of populous 
and neat towns ; and there are many palaces of the 
king and princes of the blood, which are unequalled 
by any thing of the kind in England. Of these pa- 
laces there were four which I was enabled to see; 
viz. Versailles, St. Cloud, Marli and Meudon ; of 
which I will venture to say something. — 

These four royal palaces were all built, and entirely 
furnished in the present reign. The gardens belong- 
ing to each of them are as extensive as almost any 
county in England, but the site of them is hilly, and 
the soil barren. Two of these palaces, viz. Meudon, 
and St. Cloud, have the prospect of Paris below them ; 
but the others have the view more distinctly, and 
perfectly. This district may be said to be le ber- 
ceau de rois, the nursery of kings ; for the principal 
branches of the royal family are lodged here, namely, 
the king himself; Monseigneur the Dauphin; and the 
three grandsons, who are the dukes of Burgundy^ 



168 



AN ACCOUNT 



Anjou and Berry ; also Monsieur, the king's brother ; 
his son the duke of Chartres ; and Mademoiselle hi* 
daughter. 

St. Cloud is the nearest to the city of the four 
palaces ; the castle is very magnificent and most com- 
modious ; the great saloon and the gallery are painted 
extremely well; the gardens are of a vast extent, 
being from twelve to fifteen miles in circumference. 
The natural woods on the south-west side of the 
house, are cut into alleys of different sizes ; yet there is 
such great care taken to preserve the trees, that some 
are permitted to stand in the alleys, and even on tha 
very steps of stone, which are formed to facilitate the 
descent, where the slopes are at all steep. In other 
parts of the gardens the alleys are for the most part 
treble, and well shaded, and range into vast lengths 
of several miles. Basins, and jettes d'eau occur every 
where; but there is one cascade which is said to be 
the most beautiful, and the best supplied with water 
of any in France. This I several times saw play. In 
the centre of the large basins among the woods, I saw 
one jet d'eau, which threw up the stream of water 
ninety feet, and discharged it with such a force, that 
every now and then, sounds, like the explosion of 
powder from a pistol, were caused by the escape of 
air from the pipes that conveyed the water, while the 
atmosphere was made misty and cold for a consi- 
derable extent around. The water pipes are of iron ; 
they are cylindrical, and cut or cast into lengths of 
three feet, with a bore of from ten to twenty inches 
in diameter. Where the stream is to ramify, lead is 
used. 



OF PARIS. 



169 



I was kindly invited to St. Cloud, by M. Arlot, who 
is physician to Madame. He sent his carriage for me 
to Paris, and treated me nobly. Before dinner he 
took me in his carriage, for this privilege is granted 
him, into all parts, and round the gardens, which 
were tastefully laid out in alleys and walks, and em- 
bellished with cypresses, pines, and firs, cut into py- 
ramidal shapes, and with a profusion of water-works, 
in full play. The gerbes d'eau in particular were 
very grand ; this is a contrivance to economise the 
water by connecting a great number of small pipes 
together, like a wheat-sheaf, which cast up their 
numerous and slender streams simultaneously, and 
produce the effect of a solid column of water. 

To this already ample garden. Monsieur has made 
a new acquisition, by adding a mountainous plain, 
which overlooks all the surrounding country; this 
when it shall be modelled by that admirable contriver, 
M. le Notre, will undoubtedly make one of the most 
delightful places in the world. 

The river Seine, and a vast plain bounded by Paris, 
are to be seen from the balustrade in the upper garden, 
and afford a most delightful prospect. 

These vast riding gardens are unknown to us in 
England ; and se promener a cheval, ou en earosse, are 
terms not translatable into English. Indeed we can- 
not afford to lose so much country as these prodigious 
gardens demand ; in some parts of which I not only 
saw an abundance of hares and partridges, but, what 
I wondered at still more, five female deer feeding. 

The orangery belonging to this garden is very 
spacious and magnificent; the paving is of white 



170 



Atf ACCOUNT 



marble. It was filled with vast trees in cases, which 
were much too ponderous to be conveyed in and out 
without the assistance of suitable machinery. There 
was, however, nothing in this place besides the orange 
trees, and some oleanders and laurustinuses. The 
noble painted gallery before spoken of, is continued 
upon a level with the orangery, which leads directly in- 
to an ascending walk of great length, and also fronts 
or flanks the flower-garden, where the trees are de- 
posited during the summer months. 

At the dinner I partook of an incomparable preserve, 
or moist sweetmeat, made of orange-flowers; and the 
lady of M. Arlot obliged me by communicating the 
manner of making it. 

Although there were high and proper walls for fruit 
trees in many parts of this garden, yet was there 
nothing of that nature to be found ; but only ordinary 
and in fructiferous ever-greens were fastened to the 
treillage, with which most of the walls here are lined. 
In the garden are numerous arbours, pavilions, &c. 
formed of wood, and iron intermixed with it to give 
it strength; they are painted green and are over- 
spread with honeysuckles, Sec. One hundred and fifty 
workmen are constantly employed in these gardens to 
keep them in order, the expence attendant on which 
is estimated at forty thousand livres a year. 

On another occasion I dined with the captain of 
the castle, who shewed me all the apartments at great 
leisure. At the termination of those which are oc- 
cupied by Monsieur, is a handsome suit of closets, in 
one of which was a great variety of rock crystals, 
cups, and agates mounted upon small stands; the 



OF PARIS. 



171 



sides of this room are decorated with large mirrors 
reaching* from the ceiling to the floor ; the spaces in- 
termediate to them, which were precisely of the same 
dimensions, being filled with Japan paintings highly 
varnished. ;« The effect produced by these ornaments, 
and the relief which they mutually afforded, was very 
•triking and agreeable. Another closet contained a 
great quantity of bijoux or toys, the most extraor- 
dinary of which, were the pagods, and other articles, 
'"which were brought by the Siamese ambassadors as 
presents to the king. There was also one very small 
statue of white marble, less than ten inches in height, 
which seemed to be a piece of exquisite workmanship, 
with the exception of one of the legs, which was a 
little injured, it was quite perfect. It cost twenty 
thousand crowns. The subject was a boy who had in 
the skirt of his tunic a litter of puppies, the mother of 
the puppies sitting at his feet, and looking up at him 
with an earnestness bordering upon anxiety. 

At the dinner, I partook of the red-leg' d partridge, 
which breeds upon these hills. It is smaller than the 
gray, but far superior to it. Though it was the be- 
ginning of April, the wine was cooled with ice, of 
which I was not aware till I discovered it by its ill 
effects on my throat. On the following day my throat 
was worse, but soon grew well again. 

There is no creature that takes such liberties with 
itself as man does, who daily swallows liquors of the 
most opposite degrees of temperature and quality. 
Other creatures are guided by instinct, but as for 
men, they act neither by that nor by reason, but wan- 



i 



m 



AN ACCOUNT 



der carelessly between both, and are therefore oftem 
caught to their own destruction. 

Of Meudon I cannot say much, because I was nei- 
ther within the house nor the park. Both are in an 
unfinished state, Monseigneur having but lately ob- 
tained the possession of them, and it will require some 
time to bring them to the perfection which is designed. 
Even the road which leads to it from Paris is as yet 
unpitched. The gardens are very extensive, and the 
situation of them is admirable. In the front of the 
palace is an esplanade, which is not unlike a vast 
bastion'; from hence is afforded a full view of all the 
champaign, with Paris at the foot of it. 

As to the palace of Versailles, which is situate some 
miles further within the mountainous country, not un- 
like Blackheath or Tunbridge, it is beyond all doubt 
the most magnificent in Europe. 4 Those parts of 
this palace which were built thirty years ago, and 



a The Palace of Versailles has been pronounced the eighth 
Wonder of the world. It was no sooner finished, than the 
following epigram, which has been highly and deservedly 
praised for its climax, was presented to the king, with a view 
to its being inscribed on the front of the building : 

a Non orbis gentem, non urbem gens habet ullam. 

Urbsve domum, dominum nec domus ulla parem.* 
" The world no realm, no realm a city sees. 
No city house, no house a lord like this." 
Of a similar character, and written to celebrate the rapi- 
dity of conquest of Lewis, in the year 1668, was the follow- 
ing epigram: 

Una dies Lotharos, Burgundos hebdomas una, 
Una domat Batavos hma,— quid annus erit t 



OF PARIS* 



173 



were then much admired, are now disliked, but where- 
ever it is objectionable the king designs to rebuild it. 

The soil is ungrateful, being unsuitable to herbage, 
and the water is bad, but the king has fertilized the 
former, and brought water in great abundance. The 
road is newly made, and in some places passes through 
mountains, which were cut down forty feet in depth ; 
the effect of which is two-fold, for thus the approach 
to the palace is rendered easy, and the palace itself is 
laid open to the view at the distance of a mile, while 
its gilded roof and tiles thus seen in prospect strike 
the eye with astonishment. 

The esplanade towards the gardens and parterres 
is vastly large, and the noblest thing of the kind that 
can any where be seen. In the centre of it is a capa- 
cious basin of water, inclosed with white marble ; on 
this wall is placed at suitable distances a great number 
of brazen vases and figures couchant, of excellent 



If in one day he subjugates Lorraine, 
And makes in sev'n Burgundia quit the plain 5 
In thirty Holland crouch to his career- 
Say what the glories of a perfect year ? 
On the subject of those astonishing victories, it may be 
just observed, that a cotemporary writer* accounts for them 
by stating as a fact, that the Marquis de Garine, who was 
governor of the French Country for the king of Spain, was 
bribed by the Prince of Conde, to draw off his forces. An 
easy way, he observes, of procuring the title of conqueror ? 
without incurring any risque for it ; and as the bribe was 
never paid^ a cheap one too. 

* Mem. de M. Artaguan. 

L. Logue ? 1701* 



in 



AN ACCOUNT 



workmanship, the production of the first artists. It 
would be endless to describe the furniture or decora- 
tions of these gardens, consisting- of marble and 
brazen statues and vases, a multitude of fountains 
and wide canals resembling seas, which are in a strait 
line from the bottom of the gardens as far as the eye 
can reach. To sum up all in a few words, these gar- 
dens are distributed into alleys and walks, groves of 
trees, canals and fountains, and are every where com- 
plete with innumerable ancient and modern statues b . 



b On the gardens of Versailles a judicious writer has re- 
marked that though they were planned by men at that time 
in high repute, and executed at an infinite expence, they are 
a lasting monument of a taste the most vicious and depraved* 
Nature was deemed too vulgar to be imitated in the works 
of a magnificent monarch, and for that reason preference 
was given to things unnatural, on an erroneous supposition 
that they were supernatural. Another objection to these 
gardens, for they are sixteen in number, is that though they 
are all connected with the palace itself, yet there is no mu- 
tual connection between them; so that they appear not like 
parts of one whole, but rather like small gardens in con- 
tiguity. Their junction breeds confusion, and a better effect 
would be produced by their being at some distance from 
each other. The ornaments also are too profuse, they per- 
plex the eye, and prevent the object from making an im- 
pression as a whole. This is the effect of the triumphal 
arches, Chinese temples, obelisks, statues, cascades, &c. 
which fatigue the sight in these gardens. The general want 
of good sense in the arrangement a id decorations of these 
gardens is delicately, but with much truth reprehended by 
vur great poet : t 

<c Something there is more needful than expense, 
And something previous ev'n to taste — 'tis sense: 



OF PARIS. 



175 



The orangery, or winter conservatory, corresponds 
with the greatness of the rest of the palace. It is a 
stupendous half square of vaults underground, resem- 
bling the naves of so many churches united ; it is 
formed of hewn stone, of exquisite workmanship, is 
well lighted, and fronts the south. It contains three 
thousand cases of evergreens, of which two thousand 
are orange-trees. Of these last several hundred are 
as large as they grow naturally, and some are said to 
be as old as the time of Francis the first. They were 
not to be taken into the air this year till the latter 
end of May, and indeed the oleanders, laurels, len- 
tiscuses, and most of the other greens had greatly 
suffered. In the potagerie which makes a part of 
these gardens, and has its magnificence too, there are 
seven hundred cases of fig-trees, besides wall-fruit- 
trees ; of the fig the French seem particularly fond. 

On the 17th of May the waters were made to play 
for the amusements of the ambassador and his suite. 
The playing of the spouts of water is here diversified 
after a thousand fashions ; the most celebrated of 
which are the Theatre des Eaux, and the Triumphal 
Arch. In the groves on the left the fables of iEsop 
are represented in so many pieces of water works. 



A light, which in yourself you must perceive ; 

Jones and Le Notre have it not to give. 

Without it, proud Versailles! thy glory falls, 

And Nero's terraces desert their walls." — Pope, Ep.iv. 
Ci A French lady on her returning from seeing Versailles, 
said that <c outre la passion, je n'ai jamais vu de chose plus 
triste;" bating the amours that reign there, she never saw s<* 
Stupid a thing. 



176 



AN ACCOUNT 



which surprise the eye here and there in the winding 
alleys. This might have been called " in usum Del- 
phini." It was very amusing to see the owl washed 
by all the birds ; and the monkey hugging her young- 
one till it spouts out water with a full mouth and open 
throat. 6 

In the middle of May my lord ambassador went to 
Marli, where the waters played for his diversion. 



e The same critic to whom I before referred,* asks whether 
the statues of wild beasts in these gardens vomiting water is 
in good taste ? A jet d'eau, being purely artificial, may, 
without causing disgust, be tortured into a thousand shapes ; 
but a representation of what exists in nature, admits not 
any unnatural circumstance. The statues therefore at Ver- 
sailles must be condemned. A lifeless statue of an animal 
pouring out water, may be endured without much disgust 5 
but here the lions and wolves are put in violent action, each 
has seized its prey, a deer or a lamb, and is in the act of 
devouring it. And yet instead of extended claws and open 
mouth, the whole, as by hocus-pocus, is converted into a 
different scene, the lion forgetting its prey, pours out water 
in abundance, the deer forgetting its danger does the same 
thing; an absurdity similar to that in the opera, where 
Alexander the Great, having mounted the wall of a besieged 
town, turns about and entertains his army with a song ! 
" The sufF'ring eye inverted nature sees, 

Trees cut to statues, statues thick as trees ; 

With here a fountain never to be play'd, 

And there a summer-house that knows no shade ; 

Here Amphilrite sails through myrtle bow'rs ; 

There Gladiators fight aud die in flow'rs. 

Unwater'd see the drooping sea-horse mourn, 

And swallows roost in Nilus dusty urn." 
f Lord Kaim's Elem. of Criticism, v. 3, p. 308. 



OF PARIS. 



177 



This is one of the pleasantest places I ever saw, nor 
do I believe it to be equalled in Europe. It is seated 
in the bosom, or upper end of a high valley, in the 
midst of. and surrounded by woody hills. The valley 
is inclosed at the upper end, and descends by gentle 
degrees, opening wider and wider, and affording the 
prospect of a vast level country with the Seine run- 
ning through it. 

The palace of Marli c is a square built house raised 



e Marli was the favorite residence of Madame Maintenon, 
whose influence over Lewis, for five years before her marriage 
with that king, was very great, although the connection 
between them was, or was supposed to be virtuous. Pere 
de la Chaise, the king's confessor, perhaps thought otherwise, 
and advised a marriage, which was solemnized by Harlai, 
archbishop of Paris, in the year 1686, but never avowed, 
and she still preserved her own name. This event could not 
but increase her ascendency over the king, though she was 
older than him, and had retained but little of her former 
beauty ; and she is reported to have exercised it on one 
very important occasion, to the astonishment of all Europe. 

In the year 1693 Lewis opened the campaign in Flanders 
with great pomp, for he went himself, and took with him 
the ladies of his court. William made great haste, and as- 
sembled his army much sooner than the French expected, 
and encamped at Park near Louvain. Lewis, however^ 
resolved not to venture himself in any dangerous enterprize, 
but with his ladies returned to Marli. On this last occa- 
sion the following verses were written and paraphrased: 

1. 

La jeune Iris aux cheveux gris 

D soit aTheodate 
Retournons, mon cher, a Paris, 

Avant que Ton combatte. 



178 



AN ACCOUNT 



upon steps, and all sides surrounded by a terrace. 
Its four fronts are perfectly alike, and the door-ways 
which open into the garden are precisely the same. 
In the centre is an octagon hall running up dome-wise, 



2. 

Vous me donnes trop de souci. 

Car Guillaume ne raille. 
Helas ! que feriez-vous ici 

Le jour d'une battaille ? 

2. 

11 est vrai que vous partires 
Sans Lauriers et sans Gloirc ? 

Et que vous Embarasseres 

Ceux qui font Votre Histoire; 
4. 

Mais vous deves laisser ces soins 
A Despreaux et Corneille, 

Vous ne les payeries pas moins, 
Quand vous feries merveille. 
5. 

Vous punirez une autre-fois 
Ces gens qui m'ont pillee. 

Qu' elle honte qu> a Charleroy ; 
lis m' eussent amenee. 

6. 

Quoy's que je sois aimee de vous 

Et queje sois bien sage, 
J'aurois passe parmy ces fous 

Pour un Rebut de Page. 

PARAPHRASE. 
1. 

In gray-hair'd Celia's wither'd arms 3 

As mighty Lewis lay, 
She cried, if I have any charms 5 

My dearest let's away ! 



OF PARIS. 179 

into which all the side-rooms, which are the state 
apartments, open. Above, are twelve lodging rooms 
with a narrow gallery leading to them. In the lower 
rooms, particularly in the octagon saloon, are tables 
of marble, or rather agate, for they may be compared 



2. 

For you, my love, is all my fear, 
Hark ! how the drums do rattle ; 

Alas, Sir ! what should you do here 
In dreadful day of battle ? 

3. 

Let little Orange stay and fight, 
For danger's his diversion ; 

The wise will think you in the right, 
Not to expose your person. 
4. 

Nor vex your thoughts how to repair 

The ruins of your glory ; 
You ought to leave so mean a care, 

To those who pen your story. 
5. 

Are not Boileau and Corneille paid, 

For panegyric writing? 
They know how heroes may be made^ 

Without the help of fighting. 
6. 

When foes too saucily approach, 
'Tis best to leave them fairly ; 

Put six good horses in your coach^ 
And carry me to Marli. 

7. 

Let Boufflers to secure your fame, 
Go take some town, or buy it 

Whilst you, great Sir, at Notre dame^ 
Te Deum sing in quiet, 
H2 



ICO » /.N ACCOUNT 

with the best specimens of this last precious stone, of 
extraordinary dimensions. They are amber-coloured, 
and veined like wood, the admirable effect of petri- 
faction. I neglected to inquire from whence these 
stones came, but I have seen large blocks of them at 
the dropping- well at Knaresborough in Yorkshire. 

In one of the rooms on the ground-floor, was a 
semicircular bar or rail gilded, which inclosed the 
upper end of the room, but admitted of being taken 
off. Within this bar several rows of porcelain or fine 
china were arranged on gilded shelves. At each 
corner within the bar, a small door opened into a 
room, from which the ambassador, who was attended 
by many of the French nobility and gentry, and his 
retinue, were plentifully served with coffee, tea, and 
chocolate. 

The two side fronts of the house have in prospect 
large alleys cut through the woods. On each side of 
the valley, close under the woods, are ranged in a 
line, six square pavilions, or smaller houses, of the 
very same form and beauty as the palace itself. They 
stand at equal distances from each other, not exceed- 
ing five hundred paces ; those on the right being for 
gentlemen, and those on the other side for ladies of 
quality, whom the king appoints weekly to wait upon 
him, and enjoy the pleasure of this retirement, as it 
may be well called, from court. In the front of these 
pavilions, and between them, are the finest alleys and 
walks imaginable, with fountains, and all the deco- 
rations of treillage and flowers. Such a display of 
no vulgar tulips, in beds a thousand paces long, every 
where disposed over this vast garden, and in their full 



OF PARIS. 



181 



beauty, was a most surprising scene. I could not re- 
frain from saying to the Duke de Villeroi, who was 
pleased to accompany me much in this walk, that 
surely all the gardens of France had contributed to 
furnish this profusion of flowers. This he took so 
kindly, that his father the Mareshal, afterwards de- 
tached himself to single me out, and very obligingly 
embraced me, and saluted me with a kiss, which he 
followed with very kind and familiar discourse. 

The appearance of the cascade which falls from the 
brow of the hill, opposite to that front of the mansion 
which is nearest to it, was new and singular, and was 
the king's own invention, as was indeed all the garden. 
Viewed from the house, it appeared to be a broad river 
quietly gliding down the hill ; but when I came near 
to it, I found it to be composed of two and fifty large 
basins, which were shallow and square, and disposed 
at right angles, the water not descending in the man- 
ner of a cascade, but gliding from one to another. 

In the garden were many fountains, highly embel- 
lished, and having in them a \ ariety of pipes through 
which the water played up into the air. There were 
some gerbes d'eau of a singular construction e , with a 



e That great ingenuity was required to execute the su- 
perior sorts of water works, is as apparent, as that very great 
expence was incurred in forming them at first, and in after- 
wards keeping them in repair. The following short descrip- 
tion of those which were in the garden of St. Germain, in 
the reign of Lewis xiii. shews that they surpassed in me- 
chanism, the more numerous ones at Versailles, and the 
more powerful ones at Marli. At St. Germain's, instruments 
^f music are set %t work, which afford an harmony little in- 



182 



AN ACCOUNT 



congeries of large pipes at least two feet in diameter, 
which when they played gave the appearance of a 
large column of water. In the bottom of the garden 
there was one jet d'eau, which, we were told, was ca- 
pable of casting up the water to the height of one 
hundred and twenty feet. This, however, and many 
others were under repair. 

To furnish all this water there is a most stupendous 
machine, the invention of two persons of Liege, which 
forces the water of the Seine to the top of the aque- 
duct, a height of five hundred and sixty feet. It is 
worked both by night and day by fourteen wheels, 
each wheel being thirty-two feet in diameter. At 
every stroke it propels five hundred inches of water, 
and the strokes are almost incessant. A contrivance 



ferior to the finest concert; and what adds extremely to the 
pleasure, is the representation of musicians playing on them, 
and keeping exact time with their fingers on the keys of 
the organs, and the strings of the viols and lutes, as if they 
were living performers.. All manner of mechanical tiades 
are exercised by statues, which do every thing with proper 
action, and are eager at their employments as long as the 
water gives them motion ; when that ceases, they all re- 
turn to their primitive inactivity. A sea is seen with tritons 
riding on dolphins, and sounding their shell trumpets before 
Neptune, who is drawn in a chariot by four tortoises. The 
story of Perseus and Andromeda is acted to the life by mere 
statues. But the most ingenious piece of workmanship, is 
Orpheus playing on a viol; while the trees move, and the 
wild beasts dance around him. This last invention was so 
costly, that when a single string of the viol was broke, it 
cost the king thirteen hundred crowns to repair it. 

Letters, &c, vol, 2, 203* 



OF PARIS. 



183 



shnilar to this is used in the deep coal pits of lower 
Germany, so that the appearance of a great number 
of iron cylinders bare, and above ground, and climbing 
a vast mountain, has some resemblance to an inverted 
coal-mine. 

The tree most in use here was the small-leaved 
hornbeam, which serves for arcades, berceaus, and also 
standards with globular heads, at the feet of which 
they plant cuttings of the same, a foot and a half long. 
In some places they plant whole areas with these cut- 
tings, which when trimmed make very ornamental 
green hedges, twelve feet in breadth, and compensate 
in a dry and barren country for the want of grass- 
plots. 

It is certainly very commendable in this king, who 
amuses himself with planting and pruning with his own 
hands, to make use of no trees but what the neigh- 
bouring woods supply. So that it is admirable to see 
whole alleys of pole-hedges of great height, and long 
rows of goodly standard globes, of only eighteen 
months growth. If this great king as he grows older, 
should take a fancy to place himself in a warmer cli- 
mate, and he has in Languedoc as good a one as any 
under the sun, on the same principle as he houses his 
evergreens during winter, what wonders would not his 
passion for planting, fortified by his purse, effect there. 
This example, one would think, would serve to con- 
vince him of the necessity which there is for cherishing 
decaying nature in man, and of the superiority of an 
air naturally warm, to heat procured by cloathing, or 
by fuel. 

In Languedoc the adjacent woods would afford 



184 



AN ACCOUNT 



laurels and myrtles, instead of pole-hedges, the 
lentiscus and phillarea are in as great abundance; as 
hazel and thorn are with us. The jasmin also for 
arbours and treillage, the cistus and rosemary, and 
numberless other redolent shrubs for the vases and 
pots, grow in the fields spontaneously. There the tall 
cypresses grow of themselves to the height of sixty 
and even a hundred feet, looking like so many towers; 
and also tonsil in profusion for the most beautiful 
pole-hedges imaginable. The very fields are by na- 
ture excellent kitchen gardens and parterres. The 
vineyards are as productive as orchards, and all the 
fruits that are so tender with us, thrive there as 
standards, namely, figs, grapes, apricots, peaches, 
nectarines, jujubes, &c. The large and delicious cher- 
ries, and apples and pears are in far greater perfection 
in that happy climate, than with us, or in any other 
part of France. 

What would it be for so powerful a monarch to 
make a road from Marli to Montpelier, or to Pesce- 
nas, which is seated in the bosom of a well watered 
valley, and inclosed with perfumed hills. The distance 
is less by half than that between Lahor and Agria, 
two seats which were thus united by the Mogul. This 
would eternise his name more than any palace which 
he has built, and conduce to render his decline of life 
healthy. The gardens of the Hesperides, and the la- 
byrinths of Crete, which are so famous in history, 
would be nothing when compared with such wonder- 
ful performances as his abilities and happy genius are 
capable of. For besides the natural productions of 
the country 3 the climate is adapted with very little 



OF PARIS. 



185 



assistance to support whatever plants the Indies afford. 
Whereas we, at this end of the world, drudge in vain, 
and force a pleasure which is dead and gone before 
we can well enjoy it. We have indeed a kind of show 
of summer delights, but all at once we again plunge 
into a long and tedious winter. Yet we are attached 
to the places which gave us birth, or to which we have 
been accustomed, and man is indeed as much an ani- 
mal as any quadruped, most of his actions being re- 
solvable into instinct, notwithstanding the principles 
which custom and education have superinduced. 

It is difficult to tire the sight with pleasant objects, 
but yet after walking two or three hours in this very 
beautiful and spacious garden, I was forced to make a 
halt behind the company, and was glad to revisit the 
gilt bureau at the palace, for the sake of refreshment. 
Here 1 found some of the king's officers, who had 
made several campaigns in Flanders, waiting, and 
some other gentlemen of the household. I now felt a 
much greater inclination for a glass of cool burgundy, 
than the insignificant Indian liquors, tea, &c. although 
I know it was contrary to the majesty of the place ; 
yet nothing was denied to me a stranger. 

Here, being alone, we fell into conversation con- 
cerning the English and their sovereign. They wil- 
lingly allowed the nation to be truly brave in war, and 
they now found them to be in peace as courteous and 
well bred as brave ; no nation, they said, had given 
the French king and his court the satisfaction which 
the English had done, and they found a great dif- 
ference in the deportment of other nations and of 
them, they being curious and inquisitive after all good 



186 



AN ACCOUNT 



things, not staring and carelessly running about and 
tossing up their heads, despising what they saw f , but 
having a true relish of every good thing, and making 
a proper judgment of what they saw that was com- 
mendable. For these reasons, they said, the king 
had felt pleasure in having every thing shewn them. 
These commendations of the nation they concluded 
with a high encomium on king William. 

As for their own king, it may be easily imagined 
that they were full of his praise ; they said that his re- 
tirement to Marli was chiefly on account of his health ; 
that he left Versailles every Tuesday-night, and came 



f This may refer to the conduct of a the Doge of Venice 
who with some of the senators were sent to Versailles to 
ask pardon of the king because they had presumed to resist 
his invasion. I happened to be at Paris when the Doge was 
there. One saying of his was much repeated. When all the 
glory of Versailles was set open to him, and the flatterers of 
the crown were admiring every thing, he seemed to look at 
them with the coldness that became a person who was at the 
head of a free commonwealth. And when he was asked if the 
things he saw were not very extraordinary, he said, the most 
extraordinary thing that he saw was, that he saw himself 
there '."—Burnet's Hist, of his own Times, v. 2, p. 1022, 

There is however, a severe saying of the poet Prior on 
record, which serves to shew that even the English have not 
been uniformly so complaisant as to seem pleased with all 
that they saw : Prior's attention was called to some magnifi- 
cent paintings in one of the king of France's palaces, the 
subject of which was the victories of that king. Being asked 
if they were not admirable, he replied that paintings of 
the king his master's victories were to be seen every whero 
except in his own palaces I 



OF PARIS. 



187 



to Marli with a select company of lords and ladies ; 
that he did not return to Versailles till the following 
Saturday, and sometimes stayed at Marli twelve or 
fourteen days, so that he spent half his time here in 
repose. That he was the most affable prince in the 
world, never out of humor, of a free and open con- 
versation when the subject was agreeable to him ; easy 
of access, and never sending any one away discontent- 
ed ; the most bountiful master in the world, of which 
there were numberless instances ; that there was no 
merit of any kind, which he did not readily and cheer- 
fully reward, always, especially of late years preferring 
the virtuous, but that, on the other hand, he never 
spared the rebellious and obstinate ; that the govern- 
ment of his people could not be carried on, nor the 
taxes necessary for its support be raised, with less 
strictness and severity than he employed ; that he took 
no delight in blood or persecution, but that the art 
of government had different rules, according to the 
climate where, and to the nature and disposition of 
the people upon whom it was to be put in practice. 

His great wisdom appeared in nothing more than in 
conducting himself amidst his troops, his converts, his 
court and numerous family, on all occasions in a man- 
ner becoming the dignity of the throne ; and in the 
greatness of his mind, and the splendor and magnifi- 
cence of his buildings. This was the substance of the 
discourse with which these gentlemen w ere pleased to 
entertain us. 

At my return to Paris, I was shewn the pipinerie, 
or royal nursery of plants in the Fauxbourgh St. 
Honoire, by M. Morley, who is the master of it, and 



188 



AN ACCOUNT 



one of the ushers of the king's bed-chamber. Like the 
rest of the French nation, M. Morley was very civil 
and obliging to me ; he shewed me a written almanac 
of flowering plants for a whole year, which he said 
was an original • this it might indeed be in French, 
but we have almanacs for fruit and flowers for every 
month in the year, and have had for more than thirt j 
years, thanks to Mr. Evelyn. 5 This ground, inclosed 



e The title of this singularly useful publication, the de- 
sign of which seems to have originated with Mr. Evelyn, is 
as follows : 

Kalendarium Hortense, or the Gardener's Almanac, di- 
recting what he is to do monthly throughout the year, and 
what fruits and flowers are in their prime. 

By John Evelyn, Esq. F. Pv. S. 

This work, which is neither mentioned in the Biographia 
Britannica, nor by Haller in his Bibliotheca Botanica, went 
through the tenth edition in 1706, so that according to Dr. 
Lister's observation the first must have been published A.D. 
1678, or sooner. The plan was so perfect in its original 
design, as to have been but little improved subsequently, 
and still continues to be adopted in all the modern directories 
of horticulture. 

Mr. Evelyn was both by precept and example a great pro- 
moter of the useful arts in England. He was born In the year 
1620. At the commencement of the rebellion he went with 
the king's permission abroad, and returned in the year 1651 
to Sage's Court, near Deptford, where he passed a long life 
in literary and philosophical pursuits. He published seve- 
ral works of great utility, and his name will always be ranked 
among the benefactors of the country. He had the singular 
felicity to receive marks of favour and confidence from three 
successive monarchs of characters totally different, and lived 
in great tranquility in times the most turbulent and distracted, 
to which the naturally peaceful character of his mind con* 



6P PARIS. 



with high walls is extremely large, as it ought to be 
for the supply of the king's gardens ; several acres 
were planted with pines, cypresses, &c. and there 
were vast beds of bulbous roots and the like. I 
found but little difficulty in crediting his assertion, 
that in the space of four years he had sent to Marli, 
eighteen millions of tulips and other bulbous flowers. 
He also told me that in furnishing the Trianon, (a 
peculiar house of pleasure) with its parterres, at the 
extremity of the gardens of Versailles, with flower- 
pots every fourteen days during the season, required 
not less than thirty-two pots from this nursery. 

In this nursery are several houses to receive the 
tender ever-greens during the winter ; among others 
there is a very large one, which may be called the In- 
firmary of sick orange-trees ; these come by sea from 
Genoa, and are here deposited. At this time there 
were three hundred of them in cases which the people 
were taking into the air. They were as large as a 
man's thigh, but after being cherished ten, and even 
seventeen years, were still unfit to be removed to the 
king's gardens, and they were often obliged to prune 
the tops and the roots of the trees to promote their 
recovery. 

tributed in no small degree. On one remarkable occasioa 
his serenity was disturbed. His great delight was in his 
garden, which he kept in the greatest order and perfection. 
When the Czar Peter was at Deptford studying naval archi- 
tecture, he was accommodated with Mr. Evelyn's house, and 
knowing how much pride Mr. Evelyn took in his impene- 
trable holly hedges, this rude monarch indulged himself in 
being wheeled through it in a barrow backwards and for- 
wards, from pure wantonness, and the love of mischief. 



1D0 



AN ACCOUNT' 



After all, it must be acknowledged, that this mag- 
nificence, and the number of these palaces and gardens? 
are to be ranked among the most commendable and 
the best effects of an arbitrary government. If, during 
the continuance of peace, it were not for these ex- 
pences, to what vast amount w ould not the wealth of 
the king swell, to what wretched extreme would not 
the poverty of the people descend ? It is stated as a fact, 
that in every three years, and some say much oftener, 
the king has all the wealth of the nation in his coffers . k 



11 Among the exactions which were made by the king 
of France on his subjects, that which related to the mo- 
nopoly of salt, was the most arbitrary and exceptionable. 
The king allows no one to manufacture salt but those whom 
he appoints, he also empowers officers to sell it, and every 
person is obliged to take at a stated price, the quantity im- 
posed on him. The revenue arising from this source amounts 
to three millions of crowns yearly, one half of which is sup- 
posed to be wasted in the collection ; so that out of three 
millions, which are thus extorted from the people, not more 
than one and a half find its way to the coffers of the king. 
Another mode of increasing the revenue, was by farming or 
letting particular imposts, for the purpose of raising sup- 
plies of ready money. These harsh measures reflected great 
discredit on the government, made the king very unpopular, 
and subjected him to lampoons and pasquinades. In the 
year 1694 zeater was taxed, on which occasion the following 
verses were written. 

" Lewis ambitious views supports^ 
By selling every element, 

For earth and fire a price extorts, 
Ev'n water now must pay him rent. 

And, e'er the bloody sword he'll sheathe, 

He'll tax the very air we breathe," 



OF PARIS. 



191 



So that there is a necessity that he should have extra- 
vagant and inconceivable ways of expending* it, that 
it may have its due circulation, and find its way back 
to his subjects again. But when this vast wealth and 
power are turned to the disturbance and destruction 
of mankind, it is terrible, and yet has its uses too ; we 
and all Europe have been taught by the industry of 
this great king, important improvements in the art of 
war, so that for the last twelve years, Europe has been 
an overmatch for the Turks, and we, by the continu- 
ation of the war, for France itself. The forty millions 
sterling, which the late war has already, or will cost 
England before all the charges of it are paid, were 
well bestowed, if it had produced no other end, than 
to teach us the full use and practice of war, and to 
place us, in that respect, on a footing with our 
neighbours. 

It was observed of the Romans by Polybius, that 
when they met an enemy better armed than themselves, 
they adopted the improvement. This docility gained 
them the empire of the world. On the other hand, the 
modern eastern tyrants have rejected improvement, 
and must consequently submit to the more refined 
valour of Europe. 

The effects of arbitrary government therefore, both 
in peace and war, are stupendous. The Roman em- 
perors far surpassed the commonwealth, in the mag- 
nificence of their public and private buildings, because 
they were absolute lords of the people. Augustus who 
found the houses and the walls of Rome of brick, left 
them of marble. Nero burnt and re-built Rome, and 
erected for himself a palace almost as large as a city. 



AN ACCOUNT 



Vespasian and Titus built amphitheatres and baths, 
which far excelled whatever there is of that kind now 
on the face of the earth. In the amphitheatre of the 
former, one hundred and twenty thousand persons 
might see and hear, and be seated, with more conve- 
nience than in any modern stage. Adrian, who visited 
most parts of the world for the purpose of acquiring 
the knowledge of civil architecture, left charming 
specimens of the exact taste which he he had obtained 
in his palace and gardens. Trajan, who inscribed his 
name on every wall which he either built or repaired, 
raised the pillar, and threw over the Danube the 
bridge, which are stupendous memorials of his vast 
expences. The Egyptian kings erected pyramids and 
obelisks, which continue to be the wonder of the 
world. The emperors of China and J apan, have in 
their immense buildings far exceeded the Europeans. 
The wall 1 of China and the bridges there, were won- 
derful undertakings. 

1 The stone wall which divides the northern parts of 
China from *Tartary, is reckoned by some twelve, by others 
nine hundred miles long, running over rocks and hills, 
through marshes and deserts, and making way for rivers by 
mighty arches. It is forty-five feet high, and twenty thick 
at its bottom, and is fortified at short distances with towers. 
It was built above two thousand years ago, but with such 
admirable workmanship that it is still entire. 

The palace of the Emperor is three miles in circumference, 
it consists of three courts one within the other ; the '*nner- 
most, in which the Emperor lives, is four hundred paces 
square. The other two are filled with his domestics, ^officers, 
and guards, to the number of sixteen thousand persons. 
Without these courts are large and delicious gardens, many- 
artificial rocks and hills, streams of rivers drawn int# 



OF PARIS. 



Of the effects of this absolute dominion we have 
examples in the American empires of Mexico and 
Peru. In the last of these two countries, mere na- 
ture, without art, tools, or science, achieved apparent 
impossibilities. The Cusco fortress was a master- 
piece, where stones, which no engine of ours would 
raise or even support, were laid upon stones, nor 
could any tools better polish them or set them to- 
gether. Nay, the country itself, which is nearly as 
large as all Europe, was converted into a garden, 
and better cultivated than that of Versailles ; and 
machinery was invented, that conveyed water through 
a country which knows no rain for several thousand 
miles. This is the only arbitrary government that I 
ever read of, whose sole object was the advancement 
of the public good k ; one very remarkable instance of 



canals faced with square stone, and the whole achieved with 
such admirable invention, cost and skill, that nothing an- 
cient or modern seems to come near it. The whole is served 
with such magnificence, order and splendor, that the audience 
of a foreign ambassador at Peking, seems as great and noble 
a sight as a Roman triumph. 

Sir W. Temple Miscel. part 2. p. 242. 
The author of the account of Lord Macartney's Embassy 
to China, corrects the above statement in one respect, viz. 
that the wall of China is fifteen hundred miles in length, 
and that many parts of it have fallen to decay. 

Chap. xiii. p. 338, 

k It is certain that no government ever gave greater testi- 
monies of an excellent institution than this, especially in the 
greatness and magnificence of all public works, such as tem- 
ples, palaces, highways, bridges, and in all provisions neces- 
sary to the ease, safety, and utility of human life ; so that 



194 



AN ACCOUNT 



which was, that in different parts of the public roads, 
houses for supplying food and raiment gratuitously, 
were kept open by the government, and the whole 
empire was made an useful and intelligible mass. As 
to the Turks, the Persians, and the Mogul, the whole 
empire of these is intended solely for the pleasure of 
one man, and here even tyranny itself is foully 
abused. 

Notwithstanding these advantages resulting from 
arbitrary governments, I should be sorry to see any 
of them exemplified in England. In our happy 
island, we see such palaces and gardens as are only 
calculated to promote the health and comfort of man, 
and what is wanted in magnificence, is compensated 
by neatness. Gravel walks and rollers are unknown 
in Paris and in its neighbourhood. Even the oar dens 
of the Tuilleries are shut up during rain, and for 
many days after rain has fallen, the walks in it are 
quite dirty. The grass-plots, or, as they term them, 
bowling-greens, are as ill kept as the walks, the me- 
thod of keeping them in what they call order, being to 



the constitutions of Mango Copac, have been preferred to 
those of Solon, Lycurgus, or Numa. As testimonies of their 
grandeur, says Sir William Temple, I will mention only two 
cf their highways. One of these, which was five hundred 
leagues in length, was plained and levelled through moun- 
tains, rocks and valleys, so that a carriage might drive 
through without difficulty. Another, very long and large, 
was paved with cut or squared stone, fenced on each side 
with low walls, and set with trees, whose branches afforded 
shade, and their fruits food, to all that passed. 

. Misc. v. 1, p. 264-258. 



OP PARIS. 



195 



clip the herbage and flatten it by beating, as they do 
their walks. This reminds me of what i saw in the 
garden of the Prince of Conde at Paris; in the middle 
of it, and round one of the fountains, was a circular 
grass-plot about four feet broad; to keep down the 
herbage and make it fine, the gardener had tethered 
two black lambs and two white kids, at equal dis- 
tances, that they might feed on it. Whatever the ef- 
fect was on the herbage, the appearance was pretty 
enough, and the little animals were certainly as orna- 
mental as the grass. 

All the paintings and the prints of the king which 
have been executed of late years, represent him as 
much older than he appears to be; for his face is plump 
and well coloured, he seems healthy, and feeds well. 
This is certainly an injury to the king, and if it be 
done out of complaisance to the Dauphin, it is certainly 
the meanest compliment that I have known to be paid 
by the French to their sovereign, and in direct oppo- 
sition to the sentiments universally expressed. Au- 
gustus, who was the first absolute master of the 
Romans, as this king 1 is of the French, was compli- 



1 Lewis le Grand is said to have been in several respects 
a second Augustus. They were both, indeed, examples of 
the vanity and the weakness of the greatest human gran- 
deur. Lewis strongly resembled Augustus in his family- 
misfortunes, at that melancholy time especially, when so 
many funeral cars closely followed each other along the 
avenue to St. Denis, bearing the beloved Duke of Burgundy, 
and many other branches of the royal family. 

Wilcox, Roman Convers. v. 2, p. 303. 

Others, who were less disposed to view the character of 

« 3 



196 AN ACCOUNT 

merited in a far superior way by that people. Their 
desire was 

De nostris annis tibi Jupiter augeat annos : 



this king with candour, compared him to the monster 
Tiberius : 

u Less politic, but mop mysterious, 
Our Lewis has reviv'd Tiberius ; 
And still in galling chains to train us, 
Vile Louvois imitates Sejanus." 
The great misfortune of Lewis, seems to have been that he 
was constantly surrounded vt ith sycophants, who surfeited 
him with their adulation — his person, his valour, his wis- 
dom, his taste, his renown were the perpetual themes of 
their discourse. All classes of society united to dazzle 
his eyes, and to exalt him above all measure in his own 
estimation. Flattery assailed him in every way, picture 
and statue, allegory and emblem, verse and prose. The 
avowed object of all was to make him think that no such 
king had ever existed. To illustrate this by one instance. 
The sun, which is the glory of the universe, was the emblem 
of Lewis upon all occasions. On one, to denote the secrecy 
of his counsels and the consequences of them, the sun was 
described behind a cloud, and below were these words — 
Tegiturque, parat dum fulmina. — hidden, while he forms his 
thunders. The peace of Nimegucn was " solis opus," the 
work of Lewis. In the year 1664 he is represented in an 
overgrown chariot, intended for that of the sun, surrounded 
with men and women representing the four ages of the world, 
the seasons, the celestial signs, the hours, &c. 

Quid apertius ? et tamen illi 

Surgebant crista}.* nihil est quod credere de se 
Non possit, cum laudatur Dis aequa potestas. 

Juv. iv,. 69. 

How fulsome this, how gross ! yet this takes well, 
And the vain prince with empty pride doth swell. 



OF PARIS. 



197 



That Jupiter would apply a portion of their existence 
to prolong- his. Whether it be for this or some other 
reason, the king- does not like Versailles so well as he 
did ; it is said that he thinks the air less salubrious, 
and on that account passes most of his time at Marli, 
Meudon, the Trianon, or Fontainebleau. It is sur- 
prising that no one puts him in mind of that paradise 
of France, Languedoc, which he might reach with 
ease in four days. This conversation I had at table 
with one of the introducteurs to the ambassador at 
Versailles, but he could not endure the thoughts of it ; 
as it is against the interest of individuals dependent 
on settled courts to remove, how beneficial soever it 
might be to the health of the prince. 1 remeuiber but 
one instance, w hich was that of the great Mogul Au- 
rengzebe, who in his middle age fell desperately ill, 
and continued to languish at Labor for a long time. 
At length, being advised to change the air, he made a 
progress of a thousand miles to Cassimir, the climate 
of which is mild and temperate ; there he recovered 
his health, and lived to be almost an hundred years 
old m . 



Nothing so monstrous, can be said or feign'd, 
But with belief and joy is entertain'd, 
When to his face the worthless wretch is prais'd, 
Whom vile court flatt'ry to a God has rais'd. — Duke. 
m Sir W. Temple was informed by u Don Francisco dc 
Melo, the Portuguese ambassador to England, that it was 
frequent in his country for men spent with age, or other de- 
cays, so that they could not hope for above a year or two of 
life, to ship themselves away in a Brazil fleet, and, after their 
arrival^ to go on a great length, sometimes of twenty or 



198 



AN ACCOUNT 



The king now seldom or never plays, but contents 
himself with being' a looker on. At one time he 
played much, and lost great sums of money. A Mon- 
sieur S. once cheated him of nearly a million of livrea 
at Basset, by putting false cards on him, but he was 
imprisoned for several years, and then banished. 

Before I quit the subject of the gardens of this 
country, I will mention a few particulars that are new 
to me. In the kitchen gardens of and near to Paris, 
the apricot tree is very generally cultivated as a 
standard, and it both blossoms and bears, well, but 
is kept low. Of the fruit they make a conserve which 
is preferable to any moist sweetmeat. The method 
is, to cut the fruit in slices, omitting the stone ; where- 
as with us the stone is preserved entire in the flesh, 
which causes fermentation, and spoils the preserve. 
The stones are employed to make liqueurs by infusing 
or distilling them. 

From Languedoc I procured about fifty plants of 
a praecox vine, which I presented in the name of the 
ambassador, to the king of England, through the gar- 
dener Mr. London. The grape is white, its skin very 
thin, and juice quite transparent. At Montpellier, 
where it is called DesUnies, it is usually ripe early in 



thirty years or more, the effect of that vigour which resulted 
from their removal. Whether such an effect might grow 
from the air, or the fruits of that climate, or by approaching 
nearer the sun, which is the fountain of life and heat, when 
their natural heat was so far decayed ; or whether the pie- 
cing out an old man's life were worth the pains, I cannot tell 
—perhaps the play is not worth the candle." 

On Health and leng Life 



OF PARIS. 



July. I was informed by Dr. Tournefort that there 
are praecox vines in the physic-garden at Paris, but 
whether of the same or a different kind from the 
unies I know not. 

The general way of cultivating the fig-tree in France 
is by planting it in pots or cases ; but there is ano- 
ther way, which is much practised, and that is to tie 
them up in long straw from top to bottom : for which 
purpose they are set at a little distance from the w all. 
This method is also applied to such trees as stand in 
the parterres, which are not uncovered till the middle 
of May. The exotic trees in which the French take 
most delight, are the maronier, or horse-chesnut, 
and the acacia rovini. The fruit of the former grows 
without cultivation, and for this reason the trees are 
innumerable, and are employed to shade the courts 
and garden-walks. The acacia is very common, and 
makes pretty alleys ; it is usual to lop and turn them 
into pollards: they are, however, very late in putting 
forth their foliage. 

In May, when I took leave of M. Vaillant, I found 
him in his flower-garden; he shewed me a bed of ra- 
nunculuses in full flower, which he had received from 
Constantinople only two years before. They were 
very beautiful and rare, such at least, as I had never 
seen, viz. pure white, white and green, white striped 
with carnation, pure carnation or rose-colour, striped 
carnation, &c. Of these he had sold some at a pistole 
each ; in a year or two he expected to have a larger 
stock, and be enabled to sell them cheaper. I also 
noticed the iron cradles or hoops over his beds ; these 
were removeable, and might be made higher or lower 



goo 



AN ACCOUNT 



according to the plants, &c. which were to be covered, 
This invention was, I thought, far superior to mere 
coverings of wood, and might, with canvas or mats 
well serve for a sort of portable green house, for 
the less tender plants. 

Le Febre had in his flower garden some ranuncu- 
luses which came from M. Vaillant. He had a large 
collection of tulips in their prime. Of the panachee, 
or striped ones, there was a great variety. He said 
that he expected striped tulips from such as were of 
one colour. These, if they should be striped in all 
the six leaves, would probably return in the following 
year to their former state ; but if they laboured, or did 
not finish the stripings of all the six leaves the first 
year, there were then hopes that they would continue 
striped. 

Although I had no inclination to descend into the 
stone-pits, which are well-fashion, the stones being 
wound up, yet I went to Vanre, which is about three 
miles from Paris, where the quarries are open on the 
side of the hill; here I observed that there were two 
or three layers of stone, each layer from two to three 
feet in thickness, and that the stones were composed 
of shells, or stones resembling shells. Among these 
shell-stones the most remarkable for size, was a 
smooth and long buccinum, or sea-snail, tapering 
with very many spines ; I measured one, whose first 
spine was eight inches in diameter ; its full length 
could not be ascertained, yet if it were to be judged 
of by its proportions, compared with those which lay 
flat, and the length of which we were able to deter- 
mine, it must have been at least a foot long. In our 



OF PARIS. 



seas there is no buccinum so large by three fourths. 
There were many others of this kind, and also some 
large turbinated stones, resembling some of the West 
India music-shells, of which genus the European seas 
are deficient. These layers of stone, mixed with 
shell-figured bodies, are at certain distances in the 
rock, other rocks void of shells being interposed. 

Fanciful men may think of these things as they will 
sure I am, that until the history of nature, and more 
particularly of fossils and minerals is more clearly 
investigated, and more accurately distinguished, all 
reasoning will be inconclusive. It may be remarked 
that where men are most in the dark, as they are upon 
this subject, there presumption reigns most ; it is not 
enough for the ignorant merely to dissent, they must 
insult those with whom they disagree. This observa- 
tion may be extended to mineral waters ; on this 
subject how many scribblers have there been, with no 
knowledge of fossils whatever. 

I know not whether it be worth remarking, but it 
may serve to shew the taste of the French, that in 
some country towns near Paris, I saw the battlements 
of the church, surrounded with black cloth two feet 
in depth like a girdle ; on this cloth was printed at 
certain distances, the arms of the lord of the manor 
who had lately died. 



CHAP. XII. 



OF THE AIR OF PARIS; THE PREVALENT DISEASES, 
AND THE STATE OF PHYSIC IN THAT CITY. 



I shall conclude what I have yet to say, with 
some remarks on the air of Paris, and the state of 
health and physic there. 

The air of Paris is drier than that of London, not- 
withstanding that the greatest part of this city is 
built on a dirty and miry flat, as is proved not only 
by the banks of the Seine, but by the ancient name 
Lutetia. Some of the French, however, are unwilling 
to derive Lutetia from the Latin lutum, but prefer the 
Greek tolon, toiousa, which words also signify black 
dirt; yet there are in France several other towns, 
once more considerable than Paris was, of that very 
name. We have in our philosophical transactions a 
conclusive experiment of the difference of the air of 
England and France, registers having been kept in 
both places : from which it appears that twice the 
quantity falls in England. It is owing to this, that 
our fields are so much greener, and it was a pleasing 
surprise to me at my return, to see, as I sailed up 
the Thames, the green fields on every side. For this, 
however, we pay dearly in agues, coughs and rheu- 



204 



AN ACCOUNT 



matisms. The winter, which we passed in Paris, was 
very rude and fierce, as was ever known in the me- 
mory of man, and the cold winds were very piercing. 
So much so, that the common people walked in the 
streets in muffs, and multitudes had little brass kettles 
of small coal kindled hanging from their arms. And 
yet scarcely any one is heard to cough. During the 
six months that I resided at Paris, I only once saw a 
fog there, although a very broad river runs through 
the centre of it ; nor were there any very boisterous 
winds. This however may have been accidental and 
peculiar to that year. By the twentieth of February, 
although the nights were cold, and the white-frosts in 
the morning considerable, we were very sensible 
that the sun at noon had a much stronger force and 
heat than it has with us at that season of the year. 
Another proof of the driness of the air at Paris was 
in the amendment of health ; they whose respiration 
was less free, who coughed and expectorated much, 
quickly recovered ; and it was a proof that the insen- 
sible perspiration was copious, that the kidneys had 
but little to do, notwithstanding our pretty free use 
of champaigne and burgundy. A still further sign of 
the superior driness and purity of the air of Paris, is 
that the palisades all over the city are for the most 
part entire, and the least injured by rust of any that I 
ever saw; whereas ours in London are in a few years 
rusty all over and miserably decayed. 

At our first arrival at Paris, we were sufficiently 
alarmed at the reported unwholesomeness of the river 
water, and cautioned against drinking it ; yet it was 
impossible to escape from the ill effects of it 5 for 



OF PARIS. 



205 



within a month two thirds of the family were affected 
with diarrhoea, and some with dysentery, and Were 
much indisposed. The French themselves, who come 
from remote parts of the country, suffer as much as 
foreigners. We were told that the griping quality of 
this water would be prevented by boiling; ; but that is 
a mistake, for we know that mineral waters have a 
greater effect when boiled, and that the purgative 
quality of the Seine must depend on a mineral im- 
pregnation. 

The well waters of Paris are worse than those of 
the river, because they are more charged with mine- 
ral ingredients. But our security was in the use of 
the water brought from the Maison des Eaux, where 
the aqueduct of Arcueil empties itself to supply the 
great palaces of the city, and the fountains of it. 

The dysentery being one of the most prevailing dis- 
eases in Paris, is said to be cured by the celebrated 
drug ipecacuanha, with as much certainty and as 
speedily as the ague is by the Jesuit's powder. In 
this testimonial of its virtues most of the physicians 
and apothecaries are agreed. They administer it in 
substance in the dose of from ten to forty grains, which 
last is the largest quantity that can be given at once. 
It generally excites sickness, and sometimes evacuates 
the bowels, but both gently. It is sold in France at 
from twenty to fifty crowns the pound, and is divided 
according to its goodness into four sorts. They cer- 
tainly have great need of this remedy at Paris for the 
poorer sort of people, who from their meagre diet of 
herbs and the Seine water are very subject to the dy- 
sentery ; but I made no use of it for any one of the em- 



206 



AN ACCOUNT 



bassy, but cured them all as soon, and as well, with 
our usual remedies. 

Another popular disease here is the stone, and there 
are men who are well practised in cutting for it* 
There are also two hospitals, viz. la Charite and the 
Hotel-Dieu, where great numbers are operated on 
annually. In both these there are wired chests full 
of calculi, w hich were extracted from human bodies. 
In the chest of la Charite is one, which for its magni- 
tude exceeds all belief ; it was taken from a monk, 
and is as large as a child's head. He died under the 
operation. Of this stone it is only the model which is 
kept in the chest, and on it is inscribed : u Figure et 
grosseur de la pierre. pesant 51 ounces, qui font trois 
livres, trois ounces, qui a ete tiree dans cet hopital 
au mois de Juin, 1690, and que Ton conserve dans le 
convent de la Charite a . 

But that which I shall chiefly dwell upon is the 
new way practised by a monk named Frere Jaques b . 



a That is 66 the shape arid size of a stone weighing fifty-one 
ounces, or three pounds three ounces, which was extracted 
in this hospital, in the month of June, 1690, and which is 
preserved in the Convent of la Charite." 

b A larger and more interesting account of this man's rise 
and progress is given by M. Dionis, a very eminent surgeon 
and cotemporary, from which I have selected a few particu- 
lars. In 1697, arrived at Paris a sort of monk, in the dress 
of a Recolet, with this difference only, that he wore shoes, 
and had a hat instead of a cowl. He assumed the name of 
Brother James, and appeared plain and ingenious; he lived 
on pottage and bread only. He had no money, and never 
asked for more than a few sols to pay for the repairs of his 
instruments and his shoes. He belonged to no religious 



OP PARIS. 



207. 



On the 20th of April he operated upon ten persons in 
the Hotel-Dieu, in less than an hour. On the third 
day after the operation, all except one were hearty 
and without pain. I saw him operate a second time 



order. He made himself known to M. Mareschal, the litho- 
toraist of la Charite, produced the certificates which he had 
brought from Burgundy, and desired that he might be 
allowed to operate, saying that he came to teach the sur- 
geons a new way of operating. They permitted him to ex- 
hibit his method on a dead body, which he did, but they 
found fault with it. He therefore went to Fontainbleau, 
where the court was, and applied to the court physiciansj 
M. Duchesne, Fagon, and Bourdelot, who saw him operate 
successfully. All Paris resounded with his praises, and he 
obtained the authority of the Magistrates, that, in the ap- 
proaching spring, which is the season for operating at la 
Charite and Hotel-Dieu, he should be allowed to operate. 
He did so in fifty different instances ; and though a greater 
number died than lecovered, yet the deaths were suspected 
to be caused by poison given by the regular surgeons. Such, 
however, was the desire to see him operate, that there was not 
a physician or surgeon who did not endeavour to get ad- 
mittance; two huudred persons were at onetime present, 
and guards were necessary to keep out the crowd. His 
reputation, however, rapidly declined, to which the death 
of the Marshal de 1' Orge, the very day after he was operated 
on, greatly contributed; so that even M. Fagon, one of his 
earliest patrons, preferred being operated on by Marechal. 
The great cause of his failure was the rashness, with which he 
made his incision, and the roughness with which he ex- 
tracted the stone. To the dressing of the wound after the 
operation he paid no attention, and when some one remon- 
strated with him on this account, his reply was, 4 4 I have 
drawn out the stone, — God will cure the patient" 

See Dionis Chir. Oper. p. 130, 



£0$ AN ACCOUNT 

in the Hotel-Bieu. On this occasion, he performed 
the operation with great dexterity, on nine patients in 
three quarters of an hour. He seemed to venture at 
all cases, and put me, and a stouter Englishman than 
myself, into some disorder, at the apparent cruelty of 
the practice. I afterwards saw the patients in their 
beds, and found them more amazed than in pain. 

He also cut his way in the other hospital, laCharite, 
operating on eleven patients at two different times, 
and with the same rapidity. 

Here M. Marechal, the most expert lithotomist in 
France, harangued the Governors against him. They 
coldly answered that they would be determined, as to 
the superiority of either method, by the event. 

Of those who were cut in la Charite, one died ; and 
on examining the body, it was found that the bladder 
was wounded in four or five places; that the psoas 
muscle was sadly mangled, and the vesiculae seminales 
on the left side divided. 

Frere Jacques operates both by the grand and little 
apparatus ; in both he boldly thrusts a broad lancet or 
stilletto into the middle of the muscle of the thigh 
near the anus, till he joins the catheter or staff : then 
he widens the incision of the bladder in proportion to 
the size of the stone, with a silver oval hoop ; if that 
will not do, he thrusts in his four fingers 5 and tears it 
wider ; then with the duck's bill he draws out the 
stone. 

Atque hac ratione faeminis calculi omnium facil- 
lime exciduntur; nempe scalpello intra vaginam uteri 
in vesicam addacto* 

Whatever objection* there may be to the coarse 



OF PARIS. 



209 



and savage manner in which this man operated, there 
is no doubt but that if the method were to be well 
executed by a skilful hand, it might prove of great use 
to mankind. 

This way of cutting for the stone puts me in mind 
of what I formerly published in the Philosophical 
Transactions, on cutting above the os pubis into the 
fund of the bladder. And also of that experiment of 
cutting for the stone in an alderman of Doncaster in 
the gluteus major. It was twice cut in the same 
place, and survived both operations. The first stone, 
which I saw, was very large and in some measure 
transparent, crystal like. An account of this experi- 
ment was printed fourteen years ago in Dr. Willies 
Scarborough Spa, and was a fair hint for this new 
method. 

Since my return to London, 1 received a letter from 
the gentleman who accompanied me to see Frere 
Jaques operate, in which he gave me an account of 
the career of that man after I left Paris ; the follow- 
ing is an extract from it : 

" Paris, Aug. 2nd, 1698. Pere Jaques' reputation 
mightily slackens ; out of forty-five whom he cut at 
the Hotel-Dieu, but sixteen survive ; and out of 
nineteen in la Charite, but eleven. He has since 
practised at the hospitals at Lyons, but, it is said, 
with worse success than at Paris. I am sensible that 
he has abundance of enemies, which makes me often 
distrustful of what I may hear said of him. Dr. 
Fagon, the king's physcian, told Dr. Tournefort 5 
when he went to present his book to him, that he 
( Ta^ues) had cut seven persons at Versailles, and that/ 

o 



21# AX ACCOUNT 

six of them are alive, and as well as if no operation 
had been performed. The one who died, was so dis- 
tempered, that he was not expected to live, and it 
was thought, that if he had not been operated on, he 
would have died sooner. The surgeons have a great 
mind to cry down the man, though they practise his 
method ; for Marechal has cut after the manner of 
Pere J aques, with this difference only, that Marechal'a 
catheter was canulated. La Rue, the second surgeon 
of la Charite, cut after the old manner, at the same 
time that Marechal adopted that of Pere Jaques, but 
had less success ; for all that Marechal cut are alive 
and very well, whereas la Rue lost one or two of his 
number, while those that survived, were not cured of 
their wounds so soon, by a month or six weeks." 

There is one disease which is the great business of 
the town, a disease, which in some measure has con- 
tributed to the ruin of the practise of physic here, as 
it has in London. This secret service hath introduced 
little contemptible animals of all sorts into business, 
and hath given them occasion to insult families, after 
they have once acquired a knowledge of these misfor- 
tunes. And it is for this reason that the quacks do 
here, as with us, thrive vastly, and acquire great 
riches, beyond any of the physicians, by treating these 
calamities with nostrums. It was a pleasant diversion 
to me to read upon the walls every where about the 
town, but more particularly in the Fauxbourg of St. 
Germain, the quack's bills, printed in great uncial or 
capital letters : as, Par l'ordre de Roi. 

Remede infallible et commode pour la guerison de* 
laaladieSj &c. sans garder la chambre. 



OF PARIS. 



Another. 
Par permission dii Roi. 
Manniere tres aisee et tres sure pour guerir sans in- 
eommodite, et sans que persone en appercoive, les 
maladies, #c. 

Another. 
Par privilege du Roi. 
Le Medecin lndien pour toutes les maladies, &c. 
telle quelle puissent etre sans aucun retour, et sane 
garder la chambre. II est tres commode, et le plus 
agreable du monde. 

Another. 

Remede assure du Sieur de la Brune, privilege 
du Roi, &c. sans qu'on soit contraint de garder la 
chambre, &c. 

By these bills it is evident there is yet a certain 
sense of decorum left, even among the French. They 
would be cured secretly, and as though nothing were 
doing, which these wretches highly promise. But this 
is that handle which gives those mean people an op- 
portunity for insulting their reputation, and injuring 
them in their health for ever. Every one here puts a 
helping hand and meddles with the cure of this disor- 
der, apothecaries, barbers, monks, women. Yet it 
did not appear by all the inquiries which I was able to 
make, that they possess any other remedies than our- 
selves ; nay there is something practised in England 
for its cure, of which they know nothing here. But 
the old verse 

Artem pudere proloqui, quam factites* 
forbids me to say any thing further. 

The apothecaries' shops are neat enough, if they 



AY ACCOUNT 



were but as well stored with medicines. Some are 
very finely adorned, and have an air of magnificence, 
as that of Monsieur Geofferie, who has been Provost 
des Merchands, in the Rue Burtebur ; where the entry 
to the Basse Cour is a port-cochier, with vases of 
copper in the niches of the windows. Within are 
rooms with huge vases and mortars of brass, for orna- 
ment as well as use. The drugs and compositions are 
kept in cabinets disposed round the room. There are 
also laboratories behind the house, in great perfection 
and neatness. I cannot but acknowledge this gentle- 
man's civility to me, and must needs recommend him 
for his care in educating his son, who came to England 
with Count Tallard; he is a most hopeful and learned 
young man, whom our society in Gresham-College, 
honoured at my request, and according to his deserts, 
by admitting him a fellow. 

I had the opportunity of conversing with many of 
the physicians of this city, on the present state of 
physic ; they all agreed in complaining of the low con- 
dition to which it was reduced, and the disesteem in 
which it stood ; which they attributed to the bound- 
less confidence and intrusion of quacks, women, and 
monks. Monsieur d'Achin, the late chief physician, 
has been ill thought of for taking money, and giving 
protection to this sort of cattle ; but the present chief 
physician, M. Fagon, is a man of great honour and 
learning, and very desirous of promoting the interest 
of the medical art. 

It is in Paris as in London, some practise from 
mere vanity, others to make a penny, by any means to 
get bread. The cause of all this is. as I think, the 



OF PARIS. 



excessive confidence which people have in their own 
skill, and the arrogance that arises from the want of 
reflection. 

To make a judgement of cures, and of the skilful or 
injudicious practice of physic, is undoubtedly very 
difficult, even to the Faculty; yet such subjects are 
■ubmitted to the decision of our common juries, who 
are the most ordinary men in England. I may truly 
eay, without any disparagement to them, that I have 
found the most learned men of our nation, the most 
mistaken on these matters ; nor can it well be other- 
wise in so conjectural an art, when we ourselves, 
scarcely know when we have done good or harm in 
our practice. 

Another cause of the low esteem in which physic is 
in Paris, is the sorry fees c that are given to physicians* 



c Nothing can be more degrading than the remuneration 
of physicians is in Spain, even at the present time. Two 
pence from the tradesman, and tenpence from the man of 
fashion, are deemed sufficient, while the poor, of course, pay 
nothing. Some noble families agree with their physicians by 
the year, paying him annually four score reals, that is sixteen 
shillings, for his attendance on themselves and their house- 
hold! 

The universal practice in England affords a strong con* 
trast with the above statement, and the liberality of the 
British Court may be exemplified in the two following in- 
stances. 

When his late Majesty recovered from his long illness, 
the remunerations to be paid to the physicians were thus 
settled : to Dr. Willis, fifteen hundred pounds per annum, 
for twenty-one years : to Dr. Willis, Jun. six hundred and 
fifty pounds per anmim 5 for life : to each of the other phy- 



AN ACCOUNT 



so that the science is not worth the necessary applicat- 
ion and study. The king is indeed very liberal to 
his chief physician, both in the pensions which he con- 
fers upon him, and in the preferments which he gives 
, his children. Monsieur Bourdelot also, who is phy- 
sician to the Dutchess of Burgundy, is well pensioned 
and lodged at Versailles. He is a learned man, and 
perfectly well skilled in the history of physic, and we 
may, as he himself told me, shortly expect from him, 
another supplement to Vander Linden's catalogue, 
which will contain several thousand volumes that are 



sicians, thirty guineas per visit to Windsor, ten to Kew. 
Sir George Baker's fees, who had been longest in attendance 
amounted to one thousand three hundred guineas. 

6i George the second, being afflicted with a violent pant 
of the thumb, which had baffled the skill of the faculty, 
sent for the noted Dr. Joshua Ward; who, having ascer* 
tained the nature of the complaint before he was admitted 
to his Majesty, provided himself with a suitable nostrum, 
which he concealed in the hollow of his hand. On being 
introduced, he requested permission to examine the affected 
part, and gave it so sudden a wrench, that the king cursed 
him and kicked his shins. Ward bore this very patiently^ 
and when the king grew cool, Ward respectfully asked him 
to move his thumb, which he did easily, and found that the 
pain was gone. 

His Majesty insisted on knowing what he could do for 
Ward, who replied, that the pleasure of serving his Majesty 
was a sufficient remuneration, but that he had a nephew 
unprovided for, any favor conferred on whom he should con- 
sider as conferred on himself. 

The King gave Ward a carriage and horses, and an en- 
signcy in the Guards for his nephew, who was the late 
General Gansell. 



OP PARIS. 



omitted in that catalogue, and are not accounted for. 

Monsieur, and the Dauphin, and'all the princes of 
the Blood, have their domestic physicians, some Of 
whom I knew, viz. M. Arlot ; M. Minot, who is phy- 
sician to the Prince of Conti; with him I was ac- 
quainted formerly at Montpellier ; the two M. Morins, 
both very learned men ; M. Grimodet, &c. 

Others have the practice of Nunneries and Convents 
which affords them bread ; others have parishes, and 
such like shifts ; but all is wrong' with them, and very 
little encouragement is given to the faculty. 

April 14. The Prince of Conti sent his gentleman 
and coach at midnight to fetch me to his son, with a 
request that I would bring with me the late king 
Charles's Drops to give him. This was a very hasty 
call. I told the messenger that I was the Prince's very 
humble servant, but for any drops or other medicines, 
I had brought nothing at all with me, and had used 
only such as I found in their shops, for all the occa- 
sions I had had to use any. I desired that he would 
tell the prince that I was ready to consult with his 
physicians upon his son's sickness, if he pleased to 
command me, but for coming upon any other account 
I desired to be excused. I heard no more of the mat- 
ter, and the young prince died. 

By this it is evident that there is as false a notion 
of physic in this country, as with us, and that it is 
here also thought a knack, more than a science or 
method ; accordingly little chemical toys, the bijoux 
of quacks, are mightily in request. 

This heresy has possessed the most reflecting, as 
well as the most ignorant part of mankind, and we are 



AN ACCOUNT 



indebted for it to the late vain expositors of nature, 
who have mightily inveighed against, and undervalued 
the ancient Greek physicians, in whose works only 
this art is to be learned, unless individuals could singly 
live over as many ages, as those wise men did collec- 
tively. 

Men are apt to prescribe to their physician, before 
he can possibly tell what, he, in his judgement, shall 
think fit to direct for them. It is well if this were 
done in negatives only, but they are prejudiced by the 
impertinence of the age, and our men, who ought to 
converse with the patient and his friends with prog- 
nostics only, which are the honor of physic, and not 
play the philosopher by fanciful and precarious inter- 
pretations of the nature of diseases and their remedies* 
with a design to gain credit from the ignorant ; such 
physicians as these have certainly not studied the art 
©f physic thoroughly and in earnest. 

As the drops above-mentioned/ were desired of 



A There were two receipts which were purchased by 
Charles, at a large expence, one was called the royal styp- 
tic; it seemed at first to have power over haemorrhage, but 
disappointed the great expectations that were raised by it. 
It was merely a sulphate of iron prepared in a particular 
way. The other was the article here spoken of, the formula 
of which, Charles purchased of Dr. William Goddard, and 
gave the sum of fifteen hundred pounds for it. Before the 
king bought the receipt, the medicine was known by the 
name of Gutta Goddardiana, vel Arcanum Goddardianum, 
Goddard's secret, or drops. It was a volatile salt and oil 
distilled from bones, but as there was a disagreeable smell 
caused by the bones, silk was substituted. Its virtues are 
similar, bat inferior to the volatile liquor of hartshorn. 



OP PARIS. 



me by other persons of quality, viz. the Princess 
d'Espinois, the Dutchess of Bouillon, Mons. Sesac, 
&c. I began to reflect that my master, the late king 
Charles, had not only communicated to me the process, 
but very obligingly shewed it to me himself, by taking 
me alone into his elaboratory at Whitehall, while the 
distillation was going on : I also remembered that 
Mr. Chevins, on another occasion, shewed me the 
materials for the drops, and which were newly brought 
in, viz . raw silk in great quantity ; and I therefore 
caused the drops to be made here. I also put Dr. 
Tournefort upon making them, which he did in per- 
fection, by distilling the finest raw silk he could get. 
For my own part I was surprised at the result of this 
experiment, having never before tried it ; one pound of 
raw silk yielding an incredible quantity of volatile salt, 
and in proportion the finest spirit that I ever tasted ; 
and what recommends it is, that when rectified, it is 
of a far more pleasant smell than that which comes 
from sal ammoniac or hartshorn ; while the salt, re- 
fined and coholated with any well-scented chemical 
oil, makes the King's Salt, as it used to be called. 

This my Lord Ambassador gave me leave to present 
in his name, and the Doctor now supplies those who 
want. 

Silk, indeed, is nothing else than a dry jelly of the 
insect kind, and therefore it must be very cordial and 
stomachic. The Arabians were wise and knowing: in 
the materia medica, to have put it into their Alkermes. 

It must be acknowledged for the honour of the 
French king, that he has ever given great encourage- 
ments for useful discoveries of all kinds, but partial- 



•18 



AX. ACCOUNT 



larly in medicine. It is well known that he lately 
bought the secret of the d Jesuits' powder, and made 
it public, as he did that of Ipecacuanha e . 

To conclude, it was my good fortune here, to have 
a bundle of original papers of Sir Theodore Mayerne', 



d The virtues of bark were first discovered in the year 
1500, but a century and a half elapsed before this article 
was known to Europe. And even when its power in curing 
ague was ascertained, the prejudices against it were so vio- 
lent, that a quack, named Talbor, was obliged to disguise it 
and sell it as a specific for ague under an assumed name, 
Morton tells us that he charged five guineas an ounce for it, 
and that one person paid lrirn ten guineas for two ounces. It 
is no wonder that he taught the faculty to administer it in 
large doses. Qu. did Lewis purchase Talbor's secret? 

e Ipecacuanha having been extolled as a specific in th« 
cure of dysentery, to which the inhabitants of Paris were 
from local circumstances so prone, it was natural that the 
French king should wish his subjects to have the benefit of 
the discovery. He took a very judicious method of intro- 
ducing it, by employing Helvetius to administer it gra- 
tuitously. By these means he attained his purpose, and 
Helvetius was enriched by a most extensive piaclice. I do 
not find the amount of the sum given by the king either for 
this or the bark, nor the name of the individual of whom he 
made the purchase. 

f I have not been able to ascertain that Dr. Lister ever 
gave these papers to the world ; but in the year following 
the publication of his Journey, the works of Mayerne were 
published by Dr. Jos. Browne, in two volumes, foliOj 
under the title of " Theo. Turquet Mayernii JSquitis Aurati, 
Medici et Philosophi suo aevo perplurirae celeberrimi Opera 
Medica." * Mayerne was a native of Geneva ; he graduated 
at Montpelier, and was a candidate for practice at Paris. 
His attachment to chemical remedies, however, brought th* 



OF PARIS. 



tnd his friends who corresponded with him, presented 
to me by the reverend Dr. Wickar, Dean of Win- 
chester; who marrying his kinswoman, found them 
amongst other writings of law matters. 

As yet I have not had leisure to peruse them, but 
they who know the worth of that great man, will 
desire that they may be made public. If they should be, 
they shall come forth entire, and not be disguised as 
some of his other papers have been, to the great de- 
triment of medical science ; affording, as I think, the 
first example of this nature, that posthumous papers 
ever were abbreviated and made what they never were, 
before an entire and full publication. 



old Galenical physicians upon him, who procured a decree 
of the faculty against consulting with him. In 1611 he ac- 
cepted the invitation of James I. to settle at London, where 
he passed the remainder of his life. In 1324 he received 
the honour of knighthood. He was successively physician 
to James, and the first and second Charles, and died in the 
eighty-second year of his age, at Chelsea, A. D. 1655. 
" Glorias, divitiarum, et annorum satur/' satiate of renown, 
of richesj and of years. 



FINIS. 



LATELY WAS PUBLISHED, 

A 

CRITICAL INQUIRY 

lNIO THE 

PATHOLOGY 

or 

SCROFULA ; 

JN "WHICH THE ORIGIN OF THAT DISEASE IS ACCOUNTED TOR 
ON NEW PRINCIPLES 
AND A 

. NIW AND MUCH IMPROVED METHOD IS RECOMMENDED 
AND EXPLAINED FOR. 
THE TREATMENT OF IT, 

BY GEORGE HENNIMG, M, D. 



